CounterSpin
by purple jellybean hoarder
Summary: There is more than meets the eye, Ryoma. And you are it. AU: FujiRyo, OishiKiku . LONG TERM HIATUS
1. me myself and i

** CounterSpin**: by the (nasty) purple jelly hoarder.  
  
A/N: Hi everyone, this is my first fanfic ever. Please be nice and review.  
  
Disclaimer: I really want to own tenipuri. That way, i'll have all the collectibles and at the same time, making a lot of money. dreams  
  
Warning: i have no idea where i'm going with this story, but it's going to be FujiRyo. The idea came from too much caffeine and too little sleep. well, that and annoying things like fuji and ryoma muses.  
  
===  
  
Chapter 1: me myself and I  
  
===  
  
Will it forever be like this, he wondered as he scanned the sooty ruins. Looking down, Ryoma kicked at some of the broken silver metal and watched it first haphazardly skittered towards the edge of the once grass-green cliff before it's deadly descent. The metal was from the downspout next to the back entrance of the orphanage. He saw it everyday of his 9 years there. It was hard to believe that such a useless and mundane thing would find a place in his mind to latch onto. Well, memories like this wouldn't matter anymore now. No, nothing will ever matter from this point on. He was going to die sooner or later, just like the rest of them.  
  
He blinked suddenly and rubbed tiredly at those lifeless eyes. How long since have they left? One, two weeks? They came in hordes, never stopping, always attacking. And then, disappeared just as fast. When he first laid his clear eyes upon them, he thought they were beautiful: winged metallic beings descending from the sky upon the lush earth. Weapons of mass destruction soon showed him otherwise— demolishing, killing, destroying.  
  
At first, the sight was too much to bear, but then, little by little, it soon grew onto him, just like the way he could no longer distinguish the revolting stench of decaying carcasses. He was used to the hunger, the ever present fear...  
  
And to the pain of loneliness.  
  
Now that he thought of it, he should not have been affected all that much to the idea of isolation. He had always been singled out in the orphanage. No matter how many adults came and went, no one picked him. The other children soon noticed this. Laughed at him. Called him a runt. And being Ryoma, he dealt with it the only way he knew how. Shut himself up within a barrier of coldness and aloofness.  
  
But now...but now, there was no one to test his fort hold, no one to whom he could improve his defense against, for he was truly alone.  
  
He was deep in a nearby forest when it happened, when he was suddenly knocked against a tree by a tremendous force. By the time he came to, he realized that he was under a layer of flatten trees. The orphanage and the town he had grown up in were gone. Everything was gone.  
  
There was no more reason for him to stay here. But there was something that nagged at him at the back of his mind, something compelling him to stay. And stay he did, though now, when he thought more on it, it wouldn't matter where he was anyway, because he was going to die. He was already too weak from what little food and clean water he could salvage.  
  
Maybe by tomorrow, he too, would be gone.  
  
---  
  
"Alright, you got that? Get the brat and come back here as fast as you can."  
  
"Heh. Who do you think I am? A babysitter?"  
  
"Bah. You want a beating like how it was for Yagyuu?"  
  
A pause. "Whatever. Quit hollering. I've already wasted enough time." The tall figure stride purposefully toward the doors on the other side of the room, cloak billowing. Just when he was about to exit, he turned once more. "You'll be looking at the radar, right?"  
  
"Nn."  
  
"Good."  
  
----- to be continued 


	2. devil land

** CounterSpin**: by purple jellybean hoarder  
  
Further comments: anyone watches Naruto here? Doesn't Yashamaru of the Sand (in Epi 77) look like Fuji...but friendlier?  
  
Disclaimer: no, i don't own  
  
Warning: not for Rikkai lovers. Some Rikkai spoilers. OOC. Additional pairing: slight MomoAnn. I'm evil.  
  
===  
  
Chapter 2: Devil land  
  
===   
  
Of all the possible missions he could be sent to, it just had to be something like this. Something so deliriously frightening, so rashly suicidal so... so .... deliciously adventurous? Wait, back track. Where did that come from?  
  
It's too stuffy here, he decided. Even if the air conditioner is blasting at full force into his face. The seat is too tight, he added. The straps are cutting into his shoulders. His mouth is too dry. His legs are cramped...  
  
The list is far from over.  
  
Arg. He's been in this wretched jet for too long. This whole confusing situation just keeps getting worse and worse—and they haven't even reached their destination yet! Life is not good, Momoshiro Takeshi concluded silently.  
  
"Momo, are you still sulking?"  
  
Dammit! He's only a scholar! A scholar is meant to stay at home! Studying! Not dragged into some hot-oven cockpit to do –as his senpai would like to word it –absurdly senseless mayhem! And anyway, how would _he_ understand? _He_ always goes on these ridiculously psychologica—  
  
"Momo! Snap out of it!!!"  
  
...speaking of the devil  
  
Momo twirled in his seat to face the pilot. "Look Eiji-senpai, can't you just let me have a few more moments to myself to reminisce my short life before I die a gruesome and bloody death?"  
  
Pause.  
  
"WHAAAAAAAT?!! Bloody death? Momo, have you been watching those movies again? Didn't I tell you that those are only special effects? Honestly." Kikumaru Eiji risked a moment to peek at the youngster.  
  
"I have every reason to worry! Why send a person with no experience in space combat to an important mission like this?" He covered his face with his hands. "What in the world was Tezuka-buchou thinking?"  
  
"Thinking what a big mistake this was," Eiji mumbled.  
  
"A scholar is not supposed to be involved in acts of war," continued Momo, oblivious to Eiji's earlier comment. "A scholar is supposed to be spending precious time pouring over manuscripts and such to gain the knowledge necessary for—"  
  
"Ah, Momo! I can't believe stuff like this is coming out from you! You think nobody knows your escapades with that short sword you have hanging in your bedroom?  
  
"What?! That's for decoration! How dare you!"  
  
"Uh-huuuuh. And how would you explain the uneven hedges in the garden, hmmm? Only a saw can cut through hedges that thick...or a sword." Eiji smiled evilly. "Oh, come to think of it, wasn't it Oishi who caught you slashing at a helpless little shrub the other day?"  
  
"An illusion entirely on his part." Was the curt answer.  
  
"Right. And what about that pistol you have underneath your pillow?"  
  
"How do you know about that?!" By now, Momo's voice had rose to a sharp screech.  
  
"Secret, Momo, se-cret!" Eiji tilted his head to wink at the flustered other. Heck, even he was shocked when he first learned that Momo would be coming. The cook, on the other hand, he understood. Well, he wasn't in any position to complain anyway. Tezuka was one of the best people to rely on when it came to something like this...now that Fuji could hardly walk let alone talk.  
  
He narrowed his eyes. They'll pay for that. Oh yes.  
  
"Well, going back to the earlier topic, Momo" he said in a quieter voice, suddenly serious. "You don't have to worry about anyone getting hurt. There won't be any of that happening on this trip. Everyone's counting on us to return home safely."  
  
With the kid. Momo added silently as he watched the gray planet grew larger on the screen.  
  
---  
  
If there were anything he could want at that moment, it would be to get the hell out of here. How exactly did the brat stand this type of living environment (let alone stay alive) remained a mystery to him. The air reeked. The entire land was practically blasted flat and was devoid of color. Everywhere he looked was blood and carnage. Flies swarmed in to feast on the dead and hoards of rats rampaged like sheets of fur.  
  
Dear God, this was sickening.  
  
He roughly hauled the brat up by his arm. Well, he would've dragged the smelly thing by his collar except it ripped and in the process, leaving the runt shirtless. For what reason the higher-ups wanted this... _boy_ so badly was beyond him, but as long as he got the job done, that was all that mattered. He jerked the body again.  
  
"Men! What are you waiting for? Get the plane ready!" He barked. Did he always have to tell them what to do?  
  
"Yes, Captain! Right away!" The soldiers scrambled into action.  
  
He watched them go with a bored expression. God, any slower...  
  
"Jackal! Come in! Jackal!" The communicator on his wrist sprung to life. "The enemy is entering the atmosphere! Haul your ass up NOW!!!" For a moment, Jackal Kuwahara stared dumbly at his communicator. What? But how? Didn't they lose them in that warphole? He saw them disappear! How could they...  
  
"Jackal!!!"  
  
He jammed his finger onto a button on his communicator. "Marui! Weren't you looking at the radar?!!"  
  
"Who in hell cares anymore! Take the brat and leave!"  
  
"Don't have to tell me twice" Jackal muttered as he more or less dragged Ryoma by his skinny arm. The Colonel wouldn't know the cuts were from the metal bits. As long as he handed over this pathetic excuse of a Mahoiun alive, it would be fine.  
  
BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!  
  
Jackal fell on his hands as the ground shook. Broken pieces of metal and glass pierced into his palms. He took a quick look at his bloody hands before raising his head. The sight was not pretty.  
  
The _Swiftnet_ laid in pieces. Three large ones to be exact. One of them was smoking. More than half of his soldiers were on the ground.  
  
"Shit!" He cursed loudly and yanked his plasma blaster out from his belt hostler. The bastards were going to get it.  
  
---  
  
"Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhaaaahaaaaaa!" Crowed Eiji happily. "Momo! Momo! Did you see that? The way the plane went—" Dramatic pause. "BOOM!"  
  
"Yes, yes. Eiji-senpai." Said Momo in a tiny voice but his eyes did not reflect any fear whatsoever. Geez. It was at times like this that he wondered why Eiji-senpai was given a license. That and how he could come home alive from doing such reckless acts. He snapped back to attention when he heard the change in noise from the engine.  
  
"Ok, now look after my darling plane while I go beat the baddie and whisk the—."  
  
"—helpless lad away from their evil clutches? How are you so sure that you haven't blasted him along with the plane?" asked Momo skeptically as he felt the plane land.  
  
"Nyaaaa! How dare you doubt my superior vision." Eiji strapped on his gear before pushing the necessary buttons to open the side door. "I'll be back soon. If you feel lonely, talk to Taka-san. Or start writing a letter to Ann-chan about your adven—"  
  
"Eiji-senpai!!! Get out there already and be careful!"  
  
The face that was so full of mirth suddenly hardened. "Don't worry, I will."  
  
---  
  
"Ah, Kikumaru Eiji. No wonder you got past the mother ship." Jackal taunted as he clutched the plasma blaster in front of him.  
  
"Can't say that I'm glad to see you too, loser." Eiji scrunched his nose and allowed his eyes to cautiously roam the area. This place was disgusting.  
  
"Looking for the runt? Don't worry, the trophy's over there." Jackal pointed to a particular leveled area some distance away. The boy laid on his side, but even so, the deep cuts and his malnutrition state were alarmingly apparent.  
  
"What did you do to him?!"  
  
"He was already that skinny when I found him. As for the cuts, well, let's just say I don't regret it." Jackal dawdled on.  
  
"No regret, is it?" Those blue eyes flashed angrily as Eiji prepared a battle stance. "I'll make you eat those words."  
  
Kikumaru Eiji was no amateur when it came to hand to hand combat. So when Jackal came charging, he neatly jumped to the side and made a hard blow to the back of the head in midspin. He watched dispassionately as the other kneeled over and tried to regain some balance.  
  
"Huh... that was pretty good. Of course, they would send the best to retrieve the boy." Jackal staggered to his feet. "Since we are on the subject, how is Fuji? Is he too scared to show up? Sent his friends to do his work?"  
  
He suddenly swung out his blaster and fired.  
  
Eiji dodged the shot and gave a vicious kick to the face. "Shut up."  
  
"Oh. My bad." Jackal continued, hand cradling his swelling jaw while he heavily pushed himself off from the ground. He ignored the stinging sensation shooting up his arm. "I remember now. He was poisoned by an arrow. You know, the venom of the Black Cape Viper is very deadly. Not enough to kill of course, but tortures the victim with the pain of a thousand needles and raging fever that lasts for days on end." He turned to face Eiji. "Tsk. Most unfortunate."  
  
He smirked when he saw Eiji rush up to him again. He pressed the muzzle at an angle to the ground, fired and watched with satisfaction as the jumpy imp was blown clear from the rubble beneath.  
  
Just push the right buttons and they come swarming towards you. Jackel thought with a sneer. What a pathetic race.  
  
Jackal stood straight and pointed the blaster at his opponent. "Ha. You shouldn't take me so lightly, Kikumaru-kun. I wasn't given the title of Captain out of generosity, you know."  
  
Eiji picked himself up and carefully faced his opponent again. What an annoying guy.  
  
"You're so full of yourself. I wasn't made a battle pilot for nothing either."  
  
-----to be continued.  
---what do you think? Too much action and not enough love?  
  
Thanks:   
  
_XxMaster-ExX:_ thanks for the support. It really means a lot to that I have very little experience in writing anything for that matter. And don't worry, as long as you don't act like Mizuki -coughslavedrivercough- it's fine.  
  
_Sparkedout: _I know! The wording is crappy. I'm....s- sorry! (bursts into tears) I guess it's from trying to fit too much into one sentence. You know, only after I published the first chapter did I realize that it was really short. But...how?!! It looked long to me before! Well, as long as someone likes it, I guess that's all that matters. Thanks for the comment. I'll try to make future entries longer. (And yes, there may be more beatings to come!)  
  
_Kasugai gummie:_ muses and tenipuri makes jellybean hoarder something something. Especially when they run around in circles inside your head. Ahhhh! Get them out! 


	3. disintegration

** CounterSpin:** by purple jellybean hoarder  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis. And I certainly don't own Disintegration.  
  
Warning: I'm not a fan of star trek or star wars. My friend made me watch Star Wars, so I have some idea how their guns/ships/whatever are. If I get any of the terminology wrong, don't blame me.  
  
===  
  
Chapter 3: disintegration  
  
===  
  
In the mist of the sweltering heat and shambles and disembodied limbs, life continued on in the only way it knew how.  
  
_Eat, sleep, reproduce._  
  
They were industrious things, although small and with little thought. Some scurried through the filth in haste while others hovered as a better means of transport. They looked happy enough, that was, as happy as anyone would be able to make out of their situation. There were plenty of food and safe shelters. Predators were of little matters now. Life was good.  
  
_Eat, sleep, reproduce._  
  
The landscape was different, they knew. And everything was strange. The town of the big people was gone. The tall stretches of trees that gave them perch and shade were wasted too. In their many treks across the land, they often saw a lonely boy. They would creep up to him out of curiosity, but in the end, they were always frightened away. Sometimes it was by his overly movements, other times by his wails.  
  
But they were simple creatures and understood very little. Creatures ruled by primitive drives like pain and hunger. So they continued to camp close to him, yet away from his wild, wide eyes. That way, they could also huddle together for warmth and company. At least they had each other, and so, they sought comfort in that.  
  
_Eat, sleep, reproduce ..._  
like a mantra.  
  
---  
  
Eiji ran as fast as his legs could carry him while supporting a limp body on his left shoulder. He smiled triumphantly but it soon turned into a wince when he felt the sharp pain from jarring his leg too much. Damn that good-for-nothing captain.  
  
_Flashback_  
  
It had already been nearly half an hour and the two individuals were still testing each other, trying to pinpoint a weakness that will turn the situation into his favor. Eiji sported a few deep cuts on both legs from sliding on the ground several times. Jackal was nursing a badly twisted ankle and a bleeding arm. Either side did not show any sign of giving up.  
  
"I don't see why you want to keep this up," called Jackal. "As far as I know, you are outnumbered. Even with the remaining soldiers, I will win." He paused a moment to catch his breath while firing consecutive shots at Eiji. "Speaking of which, my soldiers should have your ship surrounded now. It will be you who would be stranded on this dying planet."  
  
Eiji did several back flips along the ground. Thank goodness for those leather gloves or his hands would be sliced by now. He slid on some rubble before coming to a stop. That was a problem too, he noted. He shouldn't be jumping so much on such uneven ground. He might just end up like the limping idiot. Better end this soon. "How kind of you to worry about me. But there is really no need."  
  
Eiji dodged yet another attack. Was firing all this idiot knew?  
  
Jackal raised one of his eyebrows. "Is that so?"  
  
"Absolutely." And Eiji whipped out one of his little knives that he kept in a small handy back pouch, reeled back and threw it at the hand clutching the gun.  
  
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!" Jackal screamed as the knife pierced through his hand. His gun was tossed high and far from the power behind the throw.  
  
There. That should keep him from firing. Eiji was pretty sure that Jackal did not have anymore long-range weapons other than the blaster. He was also pretty sure that he won't be able to chase him while he ran back to the plane.  
  
But just to make doubly sure...  
  
He pulled out yet another knife, ran to another spot circling the crouched figure and aimed.  
  
For his butt.  
  
_End flashback_  
  
Eiji stifled a laugh. The bastard deserved it. He didn't think that he would ever forget that long, long howl of pain. He ran around another large piece of concrete before approaching the sleek silver jet in the clearing. He carefully leaped over the large circle of moaning bodies surrounding the plane while holding the bundle close.  
  
Bang!  
  
...and nearly dropped the said precious bundle. "That was pretty long, Eiji- senpai." Momo was standing at the door entrance with a pistol in his hand. Eiji gave a rueful smile in return as he entered. He quickly laid the Ryoma on the makeshift bed, strapped him up with the buckles and jumped into the pilot seat. "Is Taka-san still at the communications?"  
  
Momo nodded.  
  
"Then we're all set."  
  
"My goodness, he looks terrible." Said Momo as he did a quick scan on Ryoma. He slid into chair near the bed, strapping himself with the necessary belts. He turned to Eiji. "And are you all right? Do you want me to bandage those gashes? It won't take long."  
  
"That will have to wait. By now, that stupid captain would already have contacted the mothership. We can't waste another second here." Eiji fired up the engine and fitted the headset communicator. "Taka-san? Tell me where the warphole is going to open up."  
  
"Towards the direction of the Pyrin nebula. The coordinates are—"  
  
"It's alright. I know it. Strap up there, will ya? I'm going to do a lot of accelerating." And with that said, he slammed on the petal.  
  
Momo should have known that there was more to the title of Kikumaru Eiji, daredevil pilot extraordinaire. And now, he was witnessing it. He would have thought of some more words to add onto that title if only he could get his brain working. Now, all he could do was to stare wide-eyed at the screen as the surroundings whizzed by. He barely suppressed himself from screaming out loud when he was thrown back into his seat at the sudden lurch of speed. He did a quick check on the kid. Ok, no serious reaction whatsoever. He turned back to the screen. They were already in space.  
  
Things didn't look any better when he spotted some of the enemy fleets firing at them as they approached. The plane rocked from several impacts. Momo's head gave a hard crack against the chair's metal pole when Eiji made a sharp turn.  
  
"Trying to cut me off, is that right?" Eiji mumbled under his breath as he continued to steer the plane in impossible patterns. There was a growing glow to the plane's left, indicating a warphole connection. Eiji performed a tight twist to that direction while causing two enemy ships to collide into each other. "That's it, we're ramming through. Start firing!"  
  
"...who, me?" Momo squeaked.  
  
"Well, I was talking to Taka-san. But sure, you too, Momo." Eiji pushed another button on the console. Momo could only blink in disbelief as he felt the chair move on its own, taking its unfortunate passenger through several doors and eventually stopping and locking in front of a massive blaster rifle controller. He looked around, noting that he was at the right side of the plane. The clear thick glass allowed him an unobstructed view of the battle. One of the three screens branching from the controller showed a streaming video of both Eiji and Kawamura. By the look on Taka- san's passionate face, Momo already knew that he was at the guns and firing. He looked down at the controller in front of him and hesitantly grasped onto them. Never would he have guess that he would end up in this position.  
  
"Are you all right there?" came Eiji's voice. "Just use the controller as a steer, aim and fire. You'll do fine."  
  
Momo gulped as he gave the controller an experimental twist. The chair was apparently locked to a half-circular track that allowed him more than 180 degrees of freedom. What a mess he had gotten himself into. Well, the phrase 'live your life to the fullest' can come in handy at just about now.  
  
Might as well make the best of it, he thought grimly as he tightened his grip and scanned the area for potential targets.  
  
---  
  
It took a while, but the _Silverfishy _(A/N: don't ask) finally managed to squeeze into the closing warphole. All they had to do was to wait for the 'light at the other end'. The plane was now on autopilot. They didn't need to worry about anyone tailing them because it was pretty obvious that they lost big time. It will be a while before they decide to show their face again. So, in short, they had else nothing to do.  
  
Which was why they were standing in front of a particular unconscious boy.  
  
"What a chibi, nya," commented Eiji as he bandaged his own legs. He watched Momo try to clean as much of the boy's wounds as possible while Kawamura handled the bandaging part.  
  
"He _is_ kinda small." Taka-san admitted.  
  
"Did you even get the right person?" Momo spun around to look at his senpai.  
  
"There you go doubting me again." Complained Eiji. "I'm sure it's him. Fuji showed me a picture of him before."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Fujiko showed _you _his picture?"  
  
"Whoa, hold on there. When was this? From what I know, Fuji-senpai never shows anyone anything. "  
  
"Hey! What are you guys trying to imply here?!"  
  
"Eiji, you weren't rummaging through his things again, were you? Fuji only forgives you because you're his best friend."  
  
"I knew it, Eiji-senpai. To think that you have stooped this low."  
  
"_What_ the _heck—_" Eiji's eyebrow was starting to twitch.  
  
"You should respect Fujiko's privacy. Just because he isn't the kind of person who would tell people his personal affairs doesn't mean he doesn't care about them spreading."  
  
"...I agree." Said Momo after a thought.  
  
"Now, _listen_." Eiji was trying hard to hold down his frustration. "First of all, despite what you all think, I never rummage through anyone's anything! And secondly, he really did show it to me!"  
  
Kawamura and Momo gave each other a Look™ before turning back to the fuming pilot.   
  
"_uhhnnnnn_"  
  
All three heads whipped back to the figure on the bed who was watching them with glassy eyes.  
  
"Look, the Ochibi's awake!" Cried Eiji as he rushed to the bed, the earlier situation already forgotten.  
  
The boy was struggling to get up. He weakly pushed himself off the bed and attempted to look around the area. His dull eyes didn't even register the three individuals peering intently before him. Didn't realize the fact that they were blocking his line of view. Momo shivered involuntarily when those dull copper eyes swung in his direction, looking through him. He jumped when the boy's arm suddenly gave way and watched with horror as the body plunged towards the floor.  
  
Or nearly did. Kawamura caught him just in time. The body stiffened and vainly tried to push the very support that was preventing him from crashing onto the floor. Kawamura automatically tightened his grip but that only upset the boy even more. His unseeing eyes widened, and he began to twist in a desperate attempt to get away. "No, get away from me." He moaned in a raspy voice. "Don't hit me anymore."  
  
Kawamura nearly dropped him in surprise. Eiji felt anger boil inside of him as he painfully watched the helpless boy uselessly beat his fists against Kawamura's chest before curling up to cry silently. "Momo," Eiji growled, "remind me to finish off that bastard captain next time I see him."  
  
"That would explain the ugly bruises on his face and arms." Said Kawamura as he tried to comfort the sobbing boy. He wrapped his arms around Ryoma, gently guiding him back onto the bed. Then, all of the sudden, the boy doubled over and began a coughing fit.  
  
"...water." he managed to rasp out between breaths.  
  
Momo hurried back with a cup of water. He watched silently as Kawamura carefully guided the cup towards those dry lips.  
  
"Of course he would be dehydrated. Did you see the conditions he was living in?" Eiji turned to Momo.  
  
"Yeah. The smell alone knocked me out."  
  
"He's pretty tough, having been able to stay alive out there. He did a good job too, at wrapping his cuts before the infection settles in. I don't know about his eyes though, the doctor will have to look at that." Eiji sighed and looked at his watch. "We still have quite a way to go. We should also try to keep his fever down. It's not serious yet but it could grow worse by the time we reach home."  
  
"What's his name, Eiji-senpai? You never told us."  
  
"Ryoma. Echizen Ryoma."  
  
---  
  
Silence is such a strange word, he thought. Even when there is noise around you, there is always the silence at the heart.  
  
Just like how it has been for some time now.  
  
Though Ryoma had yet to regain full consciousness, he was dimly aware of the conversations around him. He couldn't catch most of them, couldn't grasp their importance. They droned on like background noise, like a murmur.  
  
He didn't like that. He didn't like how he could not understand any of the conversations. It wasn't that he couldn't understand the words, but he couldn't make much sense of the subject. And anyway, it gave a bitter reminder of his position in the orphanage and how the other children would talk behind his back in hoarse whispers. He didn't know what exactly what they were whispering about, but he always knew it was about him in some way or another.  
  
Now, the only thing he could pick up from those incoherent moments was one word that was often repeated. Sometimes it was spoken with a reverence, other times with soft concern. He liked it when the word was spoken with concern. It wasn't something he often heard. It gave him comfort even if it was not directed to him.  
  
How strange.  
  
And when the noise died down (which often happened), the silence closed up again. But he knew he wasn't alone. There was often a gentle touch that would brush with lingering care against his cheeks. It wasn't unwelcomed to say the least, but it was baffling. It made him question on things he knew no answers to.  
  
Stop it, he scolded himself. You are imagining ridiculous things. When you open up your eyes again, you will see that familiar battered old lamp by the nightstand, the porous grey ceiling and those tattered beige curtains by the window. All those terrible sights, sounds and smells were just a dream, just as how you are dreaming right now.  
  
But when his eyes could finally bring in light once more, he did not find the worn lamp, the crudely made ceiling or those shabby curtains. Instead, he found himself in a spacious, sparsely decorated room. Warm covers were tucked underneath his chin. The large comfortable bed he was lying on and the soft puffy pillows that supported his dully aching head made him bubble with a kind of unquenchable wonder.  
  
_ forever has gone,  
today is infinity  
and yesterday's dreams,  
today a faint memory  
_  
It was when a breeze blew by did he notice the opened glass doors that led to a private balcony overlooking some greenery. The air was clear and refreshingly chilled. But what was most curious was the person who sat next to the doors to the balcony.  
  
He was quiet, yet tense. He was dressed plainly too, with a checkered flannel shirt and modest cotton pants. The thick book on his lap was ignored while he turned his head to admire the scenery before him. His back had a type of slouchness that reflected fatigue yet stubbornly refused to surrender to the weariness. It was as if there was something inside of him that was desperately fighting a losing battle against the invisible limitations of his body. The wind lightly ruffled his brown hair as the lights of the early dawn shown down in an awkward slant upon him.  
  
Ryoma rose a little from the bed to crane his neck for a better observation of this stranger, but the sudden movement increased the pounding in his head and he gave a soft hiss.  
  
The individual gave a small gasp and turned, revealing a pair of tired blue eyes. He stood up so suddenly and strode across the room with such haste that Ryoma could only watch with wide eyes. He sat down at the edge of the bed and reached out with slender hands. They tenderly felt his head and Ryoma's eyes shone with surprised recognition as those familiar fingers brushed down his sore cheeks. Then, once satisfied with the checkup, the other gently pushed Ryoma back onto the bed, leaned back, closed his eyes and smiled faintly.  
  
"How are you?" The voice was soft and soothing, careful to not shatter such a sacred moment.  
  
Ryoma completely ignored that question. "Who are you?"  
  
The small smile grew wider, as if he was happy to be so rudely countered. "I'm Fuji Syusuke, Echizen Ryoma-kun. An agent in the department of intelligence. Welcome to the planet Earth."  
_  
forever has gone,  
today is infinity  
it's time to move on,  
forever has gone _  
-disintegration, by LIA  
  
-----to be continued  
  
A/N: Ahhhhh! Sorry for the late update, but hey(!) I worked hard on this, dammit! If nobody understood the first part of this chapter, I don't blame you, but I still worked hard on it and I hope someone out there appreciated it. And I wasn't turning this thing into a songfic in the last part, but I just wanted to squeeze in something that I thought was appropriate for the occasion, but I don't think I integrated it well. Arg. Give me some slack. On the bright side, Ryoma meets Fuji...yay! Oh, and a side question, any I've fans out there?  
  
Thanks:  
  
_Kasugai gummie:_ well, I figured, when I started this fic, that the almighty muses will be satisfied and die down. Fortunately or unfortunately, it ain't happening yet. (runs up the wall in frustration but soon has to come back down to fulfill muses' biddings ---notice the 's')  
  
_Ikedas: _waahaahaa! I'm loved!!! (xxx heart!) ...and it's not THAT good blushes furiously...fujiryo fangirl tendencies? Well, you and me both!  
  
_Ikyutakei:_ yea, because when I realized that, I was shocked. Actually, I shouldn't be that much, but considering that fuji has a plainish kind of hair style, I'm just surprised that Naruto people didn't pick something fancier. Shrugs. But thanks for the comment!  
  
_Cheeseburger of Doom:_ can I call you Cheesie? (lol! Just joking!) Your support is well received! .' 


	4. the conspirators

** CounterSpin:** by purple jellybean hoarder  
  
Warning: ooc on my part? Additional pairing: let's put in OishiKiku. Yeah, why not. Everyone likes that.  
  
Disclaimer: Please, I'm poor...  
  
===  
  
Chapter 4: the conspirators  
  
===  
  
Earth?  
  
The word reverberated at the back of his mind. As in the motherplanet? He remembered reading several books on other advanced life forms. They were all praised for their achievements, their strengths and their advancements, but the books also all pointed to the same reference over and over again.  
  
The people of Earth.  
  
The very civilization that first reached out to the vast void of space, the adventurous ones—these human beings.  
  
How in hell did he get here?!!  
  
Ryoma shot up from the bed despite the pounding headache and looked around in desperation. This was definitely a dream. His gaze traveled about the room before landing it on the individual before him...only to feel his lips twist into a frown. Was he laughing at him? He quickly turned the other way in annoyance.  
  
Fuji leaned over the bed and tilted his head to catch the displeased expression on Ryoma's face. "I'm sorry Ryoma. I didn't mean to make fun of you. Please accept my apology."  
  
It would have been more believable if only he didn't smile that way. Ah well, too late now.  
  
Fuji took a silent moment to observe the youth before him. Those bruised cheeks had regained most of its peachy color and those deep olive eyes had cleared considerably. He spotted a frail shoulder peeking out from the slightly oversized hospital gown but suppressed himself from reaching out a curious finger to touch that creamy skin. After all, there was only so much Ryoma can tolerate...for the moment. His eyes traveled down to his arm and noted with satisfaction that those angry red cuts were gone. He remembered how angry he was when he first saw them.  
  
There was no need to worry now. Ryoma will recover to full health.  
  
He raised his head to look at Ryoma. Now, that wouldn't do, he thought with a growing smile. Holding a grudge over such a small thing! He'd better catch his attention again.   
  
Fuji quietly scooted closer and leaned in...  
  
---  
  
Inui Sadaharu had always thought that any sensible person would listen to the doctor. Wasn't it common knowledge to know that a doctor only had the patient's health in mind? Unfortunately, that didn't apply to everyone.  
  
He turned into another brightly lit hallway and resumed his brisk walk. Gah, just remembering how he handled these people granted his nerves. All that _whining_ and _yelling _and finger _pointing_...  
  
But of course, he always had backups to... convince them. And after that, they were often much, much more cooperative. He crackled silently, fondly recalling the time Eiji broke his leg and had to stay in bed for a month. Sure Eiji wasn't happy, but then again, neither was anyone else who was watching over him. After two days, Inui decided that he had enough and pulled out his secret weapon. Heck, even Oishi couldn't stand it anymore. And _that _spoke volumes.  
  
But _he _was good. And difficult. Not only did he defy his orders to rest more, but he also was woefully immune to his Inui juices.  
  
And only _he_ would dare to wake him up at 6 in the morning.  
  
Inui's glasses glinted dangerously as he lifted his head to catch those strangled yelps coming from the end of the hallway.  
  
Note to self: attempt another Golden Deluxe Penal Tea version for Fuji.  
  
But then again, he didn't really mind the troubles Fuji caused... as long as it didn't involve him. And if that happened, it was rare, because they both shared the common pleasure to torture others.  
  
Heh. It felt great to find someone of similar interest—  
  
"Ah—ahhhhhhhhhhh!"  
  
—and there was also the deep sorrow reserved for those caught in their plans.  
  
He laid a hand on the doorknob and listened as more sounds emitted from those heavily closed doors.  
  
"Wha—what are you doing?! You...you!!" The voice was in hysterics. That would he the boy, Inui thought.  
  
Then came that sweet patient voice. "You? Ryoma-kun, where are your manners? My name is Fuji Syusuke. Say Fuji." (A/N: .)  
  
There was a slight pause before the other tried again. "I don't care what your name is, just stop coming closer!!"  
  
"Now, is that any way to treat someone who had toiled day and night just to watch over you? I deserve some recognition from you at least."  
  
"..."  
  
"Hmmm? I'm waiting."  
  
"...Fuji..."  
  
"That's _it_?" Fuji sounded disappointed enough.  
  
"What else were you expecting?!" Ack, exasperation. That was not something that should be shown to one such as Fuji Syusuke.  
  
"Saa...I was hoping that you'll add something to the end of my name. I'm older than you..." The voice trailed off.  
  
"...Fuji-senpai." The last part sounded quite strained.  
  
"That's better." Was the smug reply.  
  
Inui rolled his eyes. All right, it was time to bust in there before Fuji could inflict any more trauma than necessary. He straightened his white jacket, turned the doorknob, proceeded to walk in and nearly fell over from the scene.  
  
The covers were in a disarray. Half of them were on the floor while the other half were used as a hopeless attempt for a fort to hold off the light brown haired individual. The pillows had bunched up into a little hill behind the boy's back, preventing him from any further (if possible) efforts at shrinking away. The boy was already irreversibly scarred, from what Inui can see, being cornered and all. He was tightly squished between the headboard/pillows and Fuji, who had gleefully climbed onto the bed.  
  
Both heads whipped around to look at the newcomer; one had a pair of wide, panicked eyes and the other with closed and happy ones.  
  
"Ah, Inui! Come take a look at Ryoma!" Fuji cheerfully slid off the bed to greet him.  
  
"Quite forward, aren't you? Whatever happened to that prince charming attitude?" Inui spoke rather dryly as he gestured vaguely with his head towards the bed.  
  
A smile and a helpless shrug. "Oh well. At least I'm not asking him to marry me like that time with Yuuta..."  
  
Both turned to face Ryoma, who snapped back in fear.  
  
"..._yet_."  
  
Looks like it won't be such a long morning after all, thought Inui with hidden delight.  
  
---  
  
Ryoma scowled at his food. This place is dangerous, he decided. After the doctor came, he was ordered to do a fury of humiliating tasks, from jumping on one foot shirtless to drawing toilet seats to the best of his ability...shirtless. He was certain that half of them weren't even necessary. And when he tried to point this out, that vile doctor—that Inui-_senpai_, as he was forced to call—pulled out some gruesome bubbling pink liquid out of nowhere and invited him for a taste. Just a drop of that and he nearly gagged. So in the end, he had to endure.  
  
He narrowed his eyes and glared towards his left. Plus the fact that Fuji (he seethed at the name) watched him like a vulture— no, make that a smirking vulture— throughout the episode didn't make the situation any better.  
  
And when the evil doctor finally left, (but not before leaving a string of threats about how the both of them should stay in bed and not wander around like mindless zombies,) people began to drop by. One or two he could handle, but when it escalated to five, that was already pushing the limit. He was unused to the noise and it made his headache worse. But he would rather be damned before admitting that out loud, least that doctor came back.  
  
He didn't care how much they were praised or glorified, human beings were scary things.   
  
He took a deep calming breath and turned back to his food. He shouldn't get so worked up. They had saved him. He should be grateful; he should be relieved. At least he didn't end up like a pile of rotted flesh and bones only to be devoured by those beastly scavengers. He looked at his hands. They took care of him too. Out of kindness or some ulterior motive? It was hard to tell.  
  
Then came the questions. Exactly _why _did they rescue him? Why did a nobody like him deserve a second chance? Why was he on Earth of all planets? How did they know his name?  
  
He looked at the people gathered round the room. They had all come up and introduced themselves. It was awkward. He didn't know what to say to them. The three people who rescued him from Maho deserved more than his silence and mute nods. He owed them his life. And as for the rest of them, even if they didn't actively participate in the rescue, he knew they had some part in it. They acted so friendly to him, like they had known him for a long time.  
  
It scared him that they were so friendly.  
  
He bowed his head in shame. He really was worthless. He couldn't even muster out a simple 'thank you'. Ryoma fisted the covers in vexation. The orphanage had taught him well: anger, scorn, hostility, he had mastered them all...but that did not mean that he had forgotten kindness, appreciation or sincerity.  
  
He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and found himself face to face with Fuji. "Don't be so harsh on yourself," he said quietly.  
  
Ryoma stared with open bewilderment. What—?  
  
"Ochibi, nya, you don't like your chicken?" The redhead known as Kikumaru Eiji leaped over and took a seat on the bed. He lifted his own tray of food and pointed to his cabbage casserole. "You should've chosen something with more vegetables. You know how skinny and weak you already are. Here," Eiji began cutting half of his share, "try some."  
  
"That's alright, Kikumaru-senpai. I'm not hung—"  
  
"No, no! He should try my ravioli! Pasta equals carbohydrates, and carbohydrates equals energy!" Kawamura began to shout while swishing a fork around.  
  
"What? Uso! Everyone knows that vegetables has vitamins! Isn't that right, Oishi?" Eiji stood up and began to pace towards the foot of the bed.  
  
"...I suppose so—"  
  
"You've _all_ got it wrong! He needs meat, dammit!" Cried Momo. "I'm a scholar so _I_ should know!"  
  
...and the chaos went on.  
  
Ryoma groaned as he watched the three of them bicker. He then looked further beyond them and rested his eyes on the individual who had introduced himself as Tezuka Kunimitsu. He was seated on the sofa at the far side of the room typing away at his laptop. There was no indication given on whether or not he had noticed the argument in front of him. Ryoma frowned as he scrutinized the tall youth. He was different from the rest of them. He was reserved in a way that reminded him oddly of himself. Tezuka was proud, as Ryoma could easily tell, and held a type of stern air that demanded unconditional respect.  
  
"He's our captain." Came Fuji's voice.  
  
"Is that why you all call him Tezuka-buchou?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
They turned back to watch the fight.  
  
"Was he the one who arranged my rescue?"  
  
"Now, Ryoma-kun, didn't we go through this before? I already told you that Eiji's ship happened to pass by Maho from a mission, and you were the only survivor he found."  
  
"Then how did you know my name?"  
  
That smile again. "I don't work in the department of intelligence for nothing."  
  
"Then why were you looking after me?"  
  
"To satisfy my curiosity." Fuji answered patiently. Those closed eyes weren't giving anything away.  
  
"Then what about that bald guy who was so hell bent on taking me away back in Maho?"  
  
"Hmm? A bald guy? Eiji never told me that." Fuji's face tilted upward in thought and put a finger against his cheek.  
  
Ryoma jerked his head to look at the floor, defeated. "...liar," he whispered.  
  
He turned back to Ryoma. "But what about you? Are you not happy to be here?" The voice sounded distant and uneasy, but it could just be his imagination.  
  
"I'm not happy when people lie to me." Ryoma looked at his lap. "But I will accept Earth as my home."  
  
_I have nowhere else._  
  
"Then that is answer enough." Came the soft reply.  
  
---  
  
Ryoma looked about the room. It was Saturday, as he was told, and that meant no one had work. Momo and Eiji had pulled up chairs next to him to discuss on which ice cream flavor was the best; Kawamura had left for the local corner store for some food; Tezuka had planted himself in front of a desk; Oishi was alternating between talking quietly into a mobile phone and calming the growing argument between Momo and Eiji...and Fuji was reading a newspaper next to the balcony.  
  
Just like another typical day.  
  
In the two weeks after Ryoma woke up, they continued to visit. He found it to be a strange experience, finding people who he didn't know coming up to ask about him. They were kind and considerate, finding time to at least drop by to say hello, only to rush out again some minutes later. He felt glad and deeply fortunate. Yet at the same time, he was insecure and cynical and had often unintentionally snapped at them. But they were understanding and forgiving, and for that, he was thankful.  
  
Ryoma knew these visiting days were drawing to a close. He had regained most of his strength and had no more of those splitting headaches. Fuji, too, even though Ryoma was never told why he was hospitalized, had drastic changes. His voice no longer had that breathless quality and his blue eyes had sharpened to a cloudless azure.  
  
Ryoma bit his lower lip. He was acutely aware of those signs. He was ready to leave the hospital— but then what? Where will he stay? In an orphanage again?  
  
He shook his head to clear that sinking feeling. If he was fated to stay in an orphanage, then he guessed that was where he belonged. And anyway, he couldn't possibility ask for anything more out of them. It wasn't in his right or capability.  
  
"Echizen? Something wrong?"  
  
Ryoma raised his head and realized that everyone had their eyes on him. Had he spaced out for a long time? He turned and noted that even Kawamura- senpai had returned from shopping.  
  
"No."  
  
"Don't say that and still have such a long face. You're going to be out of this cramped hospital soon, aren't you happy? Just think of your nice warm –_ooohh_." Momo realized his mistake too late, but at least he had the decency to look embarrassed.  
  
The room went deadly silent.  
  
"...that's all right, senpais, I can do well in an orphanage. That was where I stayed in Maho, so I'm used to—"  
  
"You won't be going to any orphanage." Fuji cut in suddenly, his voice hard. Ryoma whipped his head around and stared at those blue eyes.  
  
"Eh...that's right!" Even Eiji was surprised. "We're not so heartless to throw Ochibi out to some smelly, rotten orphanage!"  
  
_But where?_  
  
"It will have to be at someone's place." Tezuka's voice rang out like a beacon. Ryoma blinked. What?  
  
"Ah, is _that_ it? I would offer my place, but I live in a dorm, along with Eiji and Momo," said Oishi, his green eyes sympathizing.  
  
"Yea, and if we do have an extra room, Momo would fill it up with his arcade games and stink it up with his favorite cheeseballs!" Eiji slung an arm over Oishi's shoulder and made a helpless wave in the air.  
  
"Eiji-senpai, that was mean! It's not like you won't be fighting over that space to put your precious teddy bear collection!"  
  
"Hey! Who was the one who sacrificed half of his closet space for your ridiculous fad for purple shirts?"  
  
"It was all Mizuki-senpai's fault!!!"  
  
Ok, this is getting stupid, thought Ryoma. They don't need to make fun of him like this. Just say that no one has any room and everything will be fine.  
  
"I live in a one room apartment," said Tezuka rather gruffly.  
  
"Sorry Echizen, but I live with my father above a sushi restaurant and already, we have so little space to spare." Kawamura offered a sad smile.  
  
Ryoma felt his head drop lower in defeat and false hopes.  
  
"Soooo," Eiji spun around from his argument with Momo. "That only leaves...Fuji!"   
  
Fuji tilted his head in amusement. "Me?"  
  
Whoa, whoa. Ryoma felt his heart stop. This was already too much. If only he could say something that would _stop _them from going down this senseless train of thought and _make_ them reconsider...  
  
"Wait, Kikumaru-senpai—!"  
  
"It would be perfect, Fuji! Your house has so much space! I honestly don't know why you would own such a spacey place if you only use only one room...eh, wait, make that two counting the bathroom. So what do you say? For Ochibi?"  
  
"Saa, that doesn't sound like a bad idea at all."  
  
Ryoma's eyes widened even more. Already he couldn't stand that infernal teasing and now he had to live under the same roof as him?  
  
"But Kikumaru-senpai, I —!"  
  
"I knew that you'll see reason, Fuji! What do you think, Tezuka?"  
  
"Permission granted."  
  
"Excellent!" Eiji clapped his hands together. "Oh, this is going to be fun. Ochibi's going to need a new wardrobe too. I remember seeing the cutest sailor uniform in the store next to the coffee shop the other day."  
  
"Ah, Eiji, I don't think that's very suitable."  
  
"Nyaa, Oishi! Don't worry, it's not for girls."  
  
"That was not what I was getting at..."  
  
The conversation faded into one dull lull. Ryoma was numb from shock. How could something go so terribly wrong? Fuji was polite, but he was subtly blunt at the same time. And when he kicked into his teasing mode, it was enough to drive him up the walls. Living with him would be like caging himself to a panther. Talk about jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire...  
  
He felt the bed dip from an extra weight and wordlessly faced Fuji.  
  
"Well Ryoma-kun, I guess we can't get out of this one, ne?" said Fuji with a helpless smile.  
  
Oh dear God.  
  
---  
  
Fuji looked up from the book he was reading. The knocks came again. He pulled himself from the warm comfort of the bed and cracked opened the door. "Tezuka," he exclaimed with mild surprise, "I wasn't expecting you." He stepped back to allow the taller individual in and offered him a chair.  
  
"Sorry. I had to finish some business with the department. But I want to talk to you before I go home." He put his bag on a nearby counter and sat down.  
  
"Something so pressing that would make you come at the dead middle of the night? Really, I'm flattered." Fuji knotted the nightgown he had on to ward off the chill.  
  
"Don't talk rubbish. I know you don't sleep yet. I want to talk to you about Echizen Ryoma."  
  
Fuji immediately stiffened. "I should be talking to you about that. I didn't know you had a such soft spot for him, Buchou."  
  
Tezuka turned to face Fuji. "And I didn't know you were so generous."  
  
"Ah. Point taken." Fuji sat down on the bed.  
  
"Fuji, you need to answer his questions soon enough. And exactly how you do it is up to you. "  
  
"Alright."  
  
"He is already getting restless. And the more time he is given to ponder upon the endless possibilities on why he was brought here, the more likely he will ultimately be pulled away from us."  
  
"I know, Tezuka."  
  
"I thought that if he was under our direct care, we would be able to keep a better eye on him and study that potential further —do you understand what I am saying?" Tezuka watched as Fuji stood up and walked to the window.  
  
Not good, thought Fuji as he peered out to the darkness. It was time to draw out that hidden talent, and in the process, lay all his doubts to rest. Because it was already hard enough to face Ryoma everytime with those accusing eyes. It made him feel uneasy, untrustworthy and dirty. It threw him off balance and muddled his judgment. And Fuji needed things to be in his favor.  
  
"I will handle things from here on, Tezuka. So don't worry."  
  
-----to be continued  
  
A/N: Hmm. It looks like late updates are the way to go. Actually, this chapter would have rolled out earlier if it weren't for further story planning (yes! there's a plot now!) and some hacker who deleted a good portion of the stuff in my computer. (stabs hacker) Just to make sure, though, don't expect an update for at least a week and a half. Anyway, going on with the story, I think there's going to be some fantasy involved, and not just only sci-fi. Ah, I feel like I have failed myself or something. Well, to justify myself, think of it this way: Star Wars won't be Star Wars without the Force. (sweatdrops and tries to talk above the 'boos') I hope people still enjoy this...  
  
PS: to authors out there, quickedit in document manager is pissing me off. I can't even make those smiley faces without having it automatically delete the symbols. Anyone out there who knows how to work around it?  
  
Thanks:  
  
_Ikyutakei:_ yes, they meet! And the fun begins!  
  
_Cheeseburger of Doom_ (cheesie weesie! ROFL): thanks! You know, I was almost beating myself over the last chapter and this chapter, I didn't know that writing fanfics required so much time and effort...well, to me, at least. I really admire those people who can whip up something in less than half and hour. Arg. Well, like they say, practice makes perfect.  
  
_XxMaster-ExX_: hehe! I've got plans big and small for those two (evil laughter), so just wait and see!  
  
_Ikedas_: ahh! People like you make my day! (heart!) And make me work hard at this fic. I wonder if that's a good thing because this story is what practically fills my head these days. Oh well.  
  
_Kasugai gummie_: Ya! Finally, someone who likes I've! Though they sing for the most inappropriate games...anyway, answering your question: muses are not good things to keep around, especially when they start to fight for attention...all at once. (proceeds to rip Oishi Muse and Eiji Muse from shoulder while Ryoma Muse and Fuji Muse team up to superglue themselves onto poor jellybean hoarder's back. T.T)  
  
_Risen: _I admit too that this fic didn't do very well in the beginning, that's because I didn't know how to start it. And the story was going quite slow. Well, anyway, I'm glad that you're enjoying this now!  
  
_Angel72: _no no, don't worry, Fuji won't get any lasting illnesses...I'LL MAKE SURE OF IT!!!!...ahem! Well, thanks for reading! 


	5. come hither

**CounterSpin** by purple jellybean hoarder

Warning: uh…extreme ooc for Rikkai? Someone has to be evil here…

Disclaimer: no…(sobs)

===

Chapter 5: come hither…

===

Those sneers and mocking stares were quite enough. As if he were the cause. As if he were responsible. He snarled back from behind iron bars. That was why he hated working in a team. Teamwork, ha! What was the point of 'working together' if everyone was clambering for benefits? And if they weren't kissing up to the superiors half of the time, they turned to stabbing at each other's backs. He grinned wryly. Even he was involved in this little game. He wasn't ashamed to admit it. It was how life should be lived— every man for himself.

The chain stretching from his leg to a metal loop on the wall clanked as he rearranged himself into another sitting position. His whole problem started when his lousy-excuse-of-a-captain received orders to capture some squirt. That's right, Captain Marui was _so_ proud and confident that the Colonel had chosen him for such an important task. It was mostly clean-up from the mess that useless Yagyuu had created, but it was nonetheless an opportunity for that slimy jackass to strut his stuff.

Marui wasn't too happy when he learned that a fellow captain was also tagging along. That wasn't unusual. Ever since Major Yagyuu got demoted to a lieutenant, all forms of hostility broke loose as the captains tried to overthrow each other for the spot.

He laughed. Marui had certainly done his homework this time. Completely outperformed himself. Not only did _Captain_ Marui ruin things for Captain Jackal, but he also landed himself in deep shit. He must remember to congratulate him the next time they meet… after beating him to a pulp, that was.

Any idiot would know that the equation just didn't add up: two captains with two teams armed with a loaded battle ship against one measly jet. And still, they failed.

And to top it off, Jackal got shot in the ass.

The front door suddenly screeched. Someone was coming and he instantly recognized the voice. He looked at his other inmates. They were either asleep or too tired to care. That was all right. He wasn't in the right mood to properly welcome the Colonel either.

"—a bunch of miserable dogs," came the voice. The clicking of those boots stopped at a cell not far from his. So the Colonel had decided to grace Marui with his presence.

"Look at you, Marui. Look how pitiful you are. To think that you have degraded to this." The Colonel spat out the words. "They kinda fit you, actually. The chains, I mean. They add a sort of—what do you call it—_mood_ to the entire situation, don't they?"

"Rot in hell, Kirihara."

"Show your superiors more respect. But I'm not here to dictate you on your lack of eloquence. I'm here to give word from the General. He says that you are a painful embarrassment to us all. Your punishment's gonna be tomorrow afternoon, right after they whip the living crap out of Jackal. Hmm…oh, and you can say goodbye to your title."

"Wait!" The voice was frightfully sharp, and with reason. "Tell him to give me another chance! It was that bumbling Jackal who messed up everything. _He_ had the boy and _he_ lost him to that pesky pilot! I was up at the ship the whole time!"

"Save it. It was your fault in the first place because you failed to eliminate Kikumaru's plane." The Colonel let out a bark like laugh. "Not a surprise, knowing _your_ records. I don't even know why the General told me to pick you at all. He probably knew already that you guys were going to fail. You know, kill two birds with one stone?" There was some shuffling of feet as the Colonel turned to leave.

"No one asked for your opinion." Marui snapped bitterly.

"Hey, don't get all crabby with me. Everyone's entitled to his own opinions, right? And I think you suck. So deal with it." The voice faded and the rusty gate was shut again.

How boring, he thought as he slumped back against the cold, dank wall, fingers clawing at his copper bangs. All talk and no action. He couldn't even catch a glimpse of terror on Marui's face.

He squinted at a naked light bulb. Success was rewarded while failure was cruelly dealt with, was it? A harsh life he had chosen, but what use were regrets? What was needed now were plans. Plans for the future and plans to save his skin.

There was only one direction to go in this situation, and that was up. Move up the ranks, get in onto the plans, win the power to command and lose the life of a lowly soldier.

Become the General.

Now _that_ was a thought.

He could still remember the first time he landed in this wretched pit, and the advice someone had given him.

'Strive for the top and knock down those in your way.'

His thoughts exactly.

_Gekokujou_

---

Ryoma was not impressed. He squinted at the bright morning rays from the window. It had been a week now since he moved in with Fuji and not one day had passed where he had any decent time to himself.

He breathed out a huff of frustration. Everywhere he went, Fuji was with him. Everything he did, Fuji was with him. He even dared to _suggest_ following him to the washroom. It wasn't the attention that he found disturbing, it was too much of it that unnerved him.

_  
Flashback_

Enough was enough, Ryoma thought as he dashed downstairs. Fuji had just excused himself while he went to fetch more of his baby photo albums from the attic. He felt bad for ditching him especially when Fuji was so eager about the whole idea, but after going through nearly 20 albums that illustrated Fuji's life as a toddler, he had enough.

Ryoma slowed down. Was he overreacting? Maybe he was making this a bigger deal than it actually was. There wasn't a need to physically _run_ from him.

He landed on the last step just as Fuji's curiously innocent voice floated out from his room. "Ryoma? Where are you? There are still 3 boxes of photos to go through before we can even _consider_ my first year in elementary school…"

Nope, running was good.

He made a quick turn to his right and entered the living room. He looked at the TV and then at the remote. He could just pretend to be flipping through the channels when Fuji finds him and maybe, just _maybe_ he would get the hint and leave him alone.

Hold on…wasn't he watching TV the other day and Fuji had sat down beside him? And something else happened…?

He shuddered.

"Ryoma?" Fuji's voice sounded oddly close.

_Quickly now_! His mind screamed and he doubled back to the hallway. He didn't want to step foot into the dojo and he certainly didn't want to cower (he scoffed at the word) in the bathroom. If he backtracked more he might bump into Fuji. The only other option left was…the kitchen.

Ryoma found himself stopping shortly at the doorway. The kitchen was clean, spacious and… _foreign_. Even in Maho, he hardly ever went to the cookhouse. Food was always given to him in a tray. He now looked at the sparkly sink and polished granite countertop. What could he possibly do to convince Fuji that he was busy? No dishes to wash, no decent non-spicy foods to eat, zero knowledge in preparing anything for himself…

"Ryoma, you're in the kitchen, aren't you?"

Screw planning and _hide_ already!!!

Ryoma skidded to a stop in front of a kitchen cabinet and wrinkled his nose in disgust. There was no way in hell that he would— ah, forget it.

Ryoma closed the doors just in time as Fuji leisurely strolled into the kitchen. Wary green eyes peeked through the slit-like crack where the two doors of the cupboard met. Fuji wouldn't be stupid enough to check every nook and cranny, so all Ryoma had to do was to wait for Fuji to give up and leave, right?

He nearly cried out loud when Fuji took a seat on a highchair instead.

_No, no, no!_

Ryoma felt his heart beat faster. He was so cramped that his legs were starting to prick from a lack of blood flow. Damn, that wave of dizziness was back again from a number of sleepless nights. He tenderly pressed his fingers against his temple, careful not to make any noise.

Stupid Fuji-senpai.

If only he could have slipped into the dining room, if only Fuji wasn't so insistent at opening up to him, if only—

If only he didn't stay at Fuji's.

He risked another peek. Arg. He was still there, now twisted in his seat. Those crystal blue eyes boring right at him and lips smirking. Ryoma almost wanted to pound at something in frustration.

…wait a _damn_ minute.

Ryoma blinked and pressed his face closer against the crack. He was positively certain that he made absolutely no clink, no bang, no _nothing_ whatsoever that would give away his position. But how would that explain Fuji sliding off the chair, slowly making his way to the very spot where he was, all the while those secretive eyes staring through the false security of those wooden doors?

He jerked his head back, nearly colliding with the back of the cupboard. Th-this couldn't be happening. There was nothing here but boxes of pasta. They had only recently finished lunch, so why was Fuji in a sudden mood to cook again? Shit, he really did it this time, Ryoma thought as his mind scrambled for some solution that would get him out from this tight fix. Hiding in a small, enclosed space must be his most idiotic plan yet. Had he really successfully trapped himself with no possible routes for escape?

"Ryoma, I know you are in there."

Huh?!

"Is something the matter? Why aren't you coming out? Are you afraid of me? Did I do something wrong?"

Damn straight.

Ryoma watched with disbelief as Fuji sank in front of the cabinet and bowed his head, wisps of russet hair obscuring his face. "Oh, I know what's wrong. You must be angry at me." Were there sniffling sounds or was his head going haywire? "I'm such a bad host. I can't even make any guests feel welcome. I'm sorry that I'm so selfish. Here I am, getting so excited about the whole ordeal that I'm flipping through the pages without asking for your opinions! I'm just talking away without letting you a chance to stop me and admire my cuteness! I'm jumping from one album to another without letting you offer any insights at all! No wonder you don't want to be with me…"

Ryoma was speechless. Just what happened? How did—? Plan completely backfired! Must …stop… insane ramble…_now_!

"Don't worry, Ryoma." Fuji continued, his voice now charged with a renewed vigor. "I'll change. I'll do better, I promise. We'll spend a few minutes for you to make some pointers after every page and we can engage in a full detailed discussion at the end of every album! How does that sound, ne? We can start from the very beginning again, so you can add—"

Ryoma pushed hard at the doors, tumbled out and began to talk really fast. "Fuji-senpai! _Stop_! You did nothing wrong! You're not a bad host! I just happened to crawl in here for no particular reason, that is all!" Another deep breath. "What you were doing before with your narration was fine! Do you hear me? I _don't_ hate you and I—"

"Why Ryoma, I knew you love me!" Fuji miraculously recovered from his bout of despair and exclaimed happily. He stood up quickly and began to pull Ryoma's arm towards the stairs. "Now let's get back to the photos. And maybe, we can squeeze in some shots of my little brother Yuuta before dinner!"

Why that… _jerk_!!!!_  
_

_End flashback  
  
_

Ryoma sighed. After several more futile escape attempts, he had given up. Wherever he went, wherever he was, Fuji would always find him. And anyway, what was there to gain by following him? He was no thief. He did not desire any material goods or was he after money.

But Fuji was persistent. Why the close surveillance? Not because Fuji wanted to know him better. No, it was more like Fuji was trying to find what secrets he harbored, what made him tick…

What his weaknesses were.

He didn't like that. What was there to examine? For what reason was he on Earth? Was he a test subject of some sort? The buoyant feel in his heart suddenly dropped to a dead weight and a fear took hold that made it hard to breathe. That was it, wasn't it? That was why they were so worried about his health, why they took pains to befriend him, why Fuji accepted him into his household.

You have been deceived, his mind then laughed, a rough, haunting laugh. And just when you thought you had left everything behind you! They will use you, ridicule you and then discard you. Just like in Maho.

Ryoma curled underneath his blanket. It's true, he thought bitterly. No matter where he goes, it will always be the same. Even if he is on Earth, the planet of greatness and prosperity, things will not change. He will forever remain manipulated and unloved, unable to fulfill that one wish he yearned for most—

That is not true, said a tiny voice.

_What?_

That is not true, came that voice again, stronger this time. You are not unloved. There are people who are concerned for you, care for you. Think back, it pleaded, and remember those who reached out to you.

That's right. He realized after a moment's thought and the vice-like grip in his heart began to ease. They were so strange; they hardly knew him, yet they still came over once in a while. They brought gifts sometimes, but they mainly came to talk. And they talked of the most fascinating things. Of Earth, her people and the multitude of languages that anchor them to their rich cultures— everything he listened with an avid attention.

But that still doesn't explain why Fuji needed to keep such a close eye on him.

Fuji. Now he was the strangest of all. What exactly went on in that brain of his? And anyway, Fuji scared him. He always knew what was going on when Ryoma was concerned. Such as that time when he hid in the cabinet. Or the times when he woke up drenched in sweat from those horrid dreams in the middle of the night. He could sense them all: those had-been screams, those grotesquely twisted faces and bodies, the blood, the smell of decay…and when he shot up, eyes darting to and fro in a crazy frenzy, Fuji would be there, sitting in that little stool at the far corner with those piercing eyes, silently observing.

It was freaky.

He turned again on the soft bed, tucking his chin deeper in thought. Maybe that was only scratching the surface of this entire mystery. There was something odd that Ryoma had noticed since the very beginning, like the time he first woke up at the hospital. It didn't seem out of place at first, but the more he thought on it, the more convinced he became. Inui-senpai had charged in when not 5 minutes had passed since he regained consciousness. And considering the fact that Fuji made no calls to inform anyone that he was awake…well, it was enough to prick his curiosity.

Then, there was that time when the gang had shoved him into Fuji's care. It had started innocently enough, some comforting gestures here and a few awkward replies there, but that all soon escalated into a series of destructive and uncontrollable events that landed him where he was now.

Ryoma gave a small frown. There was definitely something fishy going on here and he wasn't going to be caught unaware again. He was tired of being left in the dark, and he was tired of being pushed around.

The games end tonight.

---

"…so cute, Syusuke."

"Isn't he, Neesan?"

They both continued to eye the young boy from the kitchen with amusement. It was an odd picture, to say the least, with Ryoma sitting so quietly at the dining table while everyone around him was making a whole racket of noise.

Maybe it was more correct to say that Eiji and Momo were making a whole racket of noise.

Fuji gave a little sigh as he turned to check on the lasagna again. He normally didn't have this many guests over for dinner, but he needed everyone to be present for the upcoming spectacle.

_If_ it were to come at all…

He shook himself from that thought. What had happened to him? He was never this doubtful before. He wasn't getting soft, was he?

"I'm sorry that Yuuta couldn't make it to this dinner…" The other punctured through his thoughts in a soft tone.

"I'll pack some leftovers for you to bring to him. And anyway, I think it may be for the better. His mind is still unstable—"

"—all the more reason for you to delay this. What if your theory fails?"

Silence.

Fuji straightened and stared hard at Ryoma, who immediately caught the look and glared back. He closed his eyes again to give Ryoma a disarming smile before turning back to Yumiko.

"It will be my responsibility then, ne?"

She suddenly reached out and grasped his arm. "Syusuke, there's no need to push yourself like this. Another week won't make a difference. Won't you wait until you start work again? Ryoma isn't going anywhere—"

He gently but firmly pulled her hand away from him. "You don't know…" his expression became pained and his voice dropped. "The thoughts that run through his head…they are terrible. Like he is falling and has nothing to grasp onto." There was an awkward pause before Fuji busied himself with pulling the pan from the oven, his back to her.

"I failed twice, and I won't allow myself to do it again. I thought you would understand more than anyone… "

"Syusuke, it won't do you any good if you run yourself ragged. Mother and Father wouldn't—"

"—Neesan!" Fuji's voice was unnaturally sharp. "Ah…sorry. I—I just don't want to talk about them now. Painful memories are what we all try to avoid, ne?" Fuji offered an apologetic smile. "There's no reason to worry. I have stretched this game long enough, so it is best to end it soon. And what better way to wrap things up than to ensnare him further to those who need his gifts the most?"

_without a chance to escape, forever entwined _

Yumiko watched helplessly as her brother brushed past her to the dining room, balancing the pan of lasagna with practiced ease. "Just watch from the sidelines, won't you? You won't be disappointed."

---

It was only after everyone had eaten their full of that wonderful cheesecake that all sorts of conversations began to spring up. They were all light and cheerful, but Ryoma couldn't shake the feeling that there was something creeping underneath all the jokes and laughter, just waiting for the moment to surface.

Damn, he was so paranoid.

Not to mention frustrated as well. Didn't he promise himself that he would solve that shrouded puzzle? Dinner had already ended, yet he still remained as clueless as ever…

"Isn't that right, Echizen?"

"What was that, Momo-senpai?" Ryoma asked with a tinge of annoyance. He had been bothering him all dinner.

"How you were valiantly fighting for that last piece of chicken with your butter knife?"

Ryoma blushed brightly under Fuji's questioning gaze and quickly ducked his head. It was true. He had never tasted such a delicious assortment of food in his life. It wasn't to say that the meals he had with Fuji before weren't great, but maybe it was the cheer and presence of the whole crowd made the taste even better. "It was good," he mumbled.

"You see? Geez, Fuji-senpai, is there anything _else_ you can do?" continued Momo. "Like, besides cooking, gardening—"

"—singing like a girl, freaking people out, waving sharp objects around—" interrupted Eiji with a wicked smile.

"—inability to gag from my beautiful vegetable juices—"

"—being annoying and an obtrusive pain in the ass," finished Atobe smugly from his corner, to which he earned everyone's glare.

"Um." Momo did a quick glace at Fuji whose smile was starting to waver and mentally cringed. "Ah… well. I wasn't exactly looking for _those_ words." He took a quick moment to go over what he was about to say, while his head blared the words: danger, danger! "I meant, _desirable_ abilities. Like… sword playing! Yeah!" He gave himself a mental pat and ignored the way Oishi was rolling his eyes. "Which reminds me, Fuji-senpai, remember those short swords you showed me the other day? I'm very interested."

Fuji visibly relaxed. "Ah, those. I recently got another one." He turned to his left and asked sweetly, "Ryoma-kun? Remember that wakizashi with the red hilt I pointed out to you yesterday? The one hanging in the display cabinet? Can you get it for me?"

"…sure." Ryoma pushed himself from the table and headed to the beautiful large wooden case located a little distance behind Fuji's seat into the cosy sitting room. Even from a simple glance, anyone would know that it was expensive and very much treasured. He himself had spent countless moments standing before it, admiring the dark rich wood and its fine finish. But that was not all that held his attention because the displays were beautiful too. The antique cabinet housed the most decorative and elegant weapons he had ever seen— daggers with gleaming blades and elaborately ornamented handles, exquisite swords of various sizes with graceful curves. At first, he didn't approve on how the weapons were placed, having been pulled out of their scabbards and delicately resting on stands fastened to the back cabinet wall. It was dangerous if they were ever to fall. But he couldn't deny that he liked the way the light danced and bounced off from those sharp and highly polished metallic thins.

The curiously sheathed wakizashi was located on the topmost rack surrounded by several of those ­jagged-edged knives. Ryoma grabbed a nearby stool and noted with dismay that he could only just reach it if he stretched.

Curse his damn height.

If only he were a little bit taller, he grumbled while he tugged at the little metal knobs to open the glass doors—

=**_Bang!_**=

_Waa_?! The displays rattled on their stands and he hastily raised his hands in defense. Ryoma made a careful check at the cheery crowd behind him once everything stilled and let out a breath of relief. Ah, that was close! He didn't know the doors needed so much force to yank them open. He turned back to the short sword. As difficult as it may seem, he just had to be careful. His hand gingerly reached over and he lifted his head, eyes squinting at the target. Come on, just a little bit more—

_Gently, gently, that's it…_

Fingers curled around the smooth cool scabbard. All that was left now was to dislodge it from the two little hooks that prevented the sword from slipping off the rack. He held onto a shelf to steady himself and raised on his tippy-toes—

=**Screeeeech!**=

_Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop!!_ His mind screamed. What was _that_? And that creaking and cracking noise? Instinct kicked in and he instantly stumbled back, tripping on the stool and falling onto his back. He looked up. Was it just him or was the cabinet lurching forward?

His pupils dilated in fear and his mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Oh God, with the way the entire display case tilting towards him, the whole shelf of swords and daggers were jostled out of their racks and were falling…blade first.

Body froze, mind blanked and time slowed. Those jagged daggers came closer, razor-sharp and flashing under the light.

-_Iamgoingtodienothingthatcanstopthemtoolateforanyonetopullmeaway_-

Ryoma could only shut his eyes to what was inevitable.

-  
-

-  
-

-  
-

_And what do you think you're doing?_

It was that voice in his head again, that same voice that had wrapped him in warmth when he was down, that gave him comfort when he was lost, now sparked with anger and agitation.

_Are you simply going to end your existence when you have yet to accomplish anything? Here is your opportunity to start anew, on another planet, where you can leave and forget that dwelling of hurt and pains, but you are just tossing it away!_

Stop it, he wanted to snap back, there is nothing that can be done. Even a mere fool would understand the situation. But the voice was relentless.

_Weren't you the one who promised yourself that you'll reach the bottom of this swampy mystery? Where is that will now? The will to live? Has it vanished? Was that all just talk then?_

The voice sounded desperate. As if it was running out of opinions and time. As if it belonged to an actual being instead of just a piece of his sub-consciousness.

_This is not the way how things are done! Giving up when the going gets tough! We fall and we stand again! No—no wonder you are weak, you spineless sniveling coward! No wonder you were such a pushover to those children! You are nothing but an incompetent and careless dimwit who allows all sorts of people to take advantage of you! And that was why you were never chosen by any of those hopeful parents in the orphanage, that was why you deserved to be mocked and scor—_

Shut _up_! I'll live dammit! He was furious now. How _dare_ this invisible entity accused him of being weak when he was the one who had suffered in that hellhole of an orphanage! How _dare_ it called him a coward when he was the one who bravely endured those long tormenting days of humiliation and agony from the company of those stupid children! And how _dare_ it claimed that he was a dallying and ignorant fool when he was powerless to what his fates are!

And at that, Ryoma suddenly felt an unexplainable warmth that spread like wildfire from his chest outward; a force that soon threatened to burst out, like water in an overflowing dam. But when he let go, that force didn't recede. It came and came, like torrents, filling him with a sense of awareness. Awareness for movement and awareness for immobility.

He snapped opened his eyes to see the scene frozen like it would in a snapshot. So this was how last moments were, he mused, where dread and terror lagged, long and timeless. The heavy cabinet hovered ever dangerously close, looming over like the death it promised. And merely a few inches from his face were the daggers, coordinated like a fleet of jets, spinning along their lengths as they remained suspended in midair…

_Spinning—_?

Something jammed roughly into him and the both of them crashed into the adjacent wall. Ryoma twisted in his savior's hold, eyes refusing to leave the sight before him, despite the fear that threatened to eat him alive.

And then, as if time was running once more, everything fell. He looked on with horror at how the cabinet wood splintered into a thousand pieces, at how the shattered crystal glass fragments scattered themselves onto the ground and at how the daggers embedded themselves deeply into the varnished hardwood floor.

… holy shit

Ryoma slumped weakly against a warm chest. He was shivering so badly that he didn't even notice how tightly he was being held, or how Fuji had buried his face into his hair.

All the occupants had gathered round, silent and stunned. Clear disbelief etched on their faces.

"Ochibi," Eiji whispered, "you're a psychokinetic?"

-----to be continued

A/N: went on a break (that lasted way too long), had a serious writer's block. (this was one hard chapter to write!) and muses demanding for near perfection (damn you, everyone, for spurring them on!) Now that I look back, I don't like this chapter. I think it's because my writing's starting to change (frowns). But for those of you who endured, that long, ridiculous (and hopefully funny) FujiRyo moment was for you! (heart!) Hope you guys enjoyed that part. Uh, the OishiKiku moments will come…soon. And another thing, according to my friends, I swear…a lot (though I don't agree). So don't be disturbed if some of it begins to appear. And if I have offended some of you, deeply sorry. Oh, and sorry also to everyone for that long wait! But let truth be told (however bad), when school rolls around, the wait will be much, much worse…

Thanks:

_Kasugai_ _gummie_: an ode to my annoying muses  
I am slowly going crazy  
One two three four five six switch  
Crazy going slowly am I  
Six five four three two one switch  
'Nuff said. (laughs)...seriously, how do people put up with them?

_Risen_: thank you very much for the comment! I need my daily fujiryo too, you know! Hope you are still interested in this story despite the long wait.

_Ikyutakei_: and here is finally the next chapter!

_Cheeseburger of Doom_: yay! Plot rulez! Well, plotless fics also rule, but let's try to make myself feel better, yes?

_Anonymous #1_: you scare me. Seriously. But hey, I'm still angry at the hacker, so I guess, the bloodier, the better! (whoops for violence and waves bloody knife around) Thanks for reviewing!

_Anonymous #2_: Fanfiction _is_ good for me! I'll try to fix Inui. Hmm, (thinks of more ways to get Ryoma into trouble with Fuji and giggles) and I'll try to keep you as entertained as possible!

_Ann_: I'll try my best to update as fast as possible. (looks at chapter 5 and considers how long it took for _that_ to be published) Um…yes. I'm deeply grateful that you appreciate the story though and thank you for your review!

_XxMaster-ExX_: Everyone's so excited about Ryoma moving in with Fuji…ah, I wonder what how else can I torture Ryoma with. Poor dear, he's so confused, which makes torturing even more fun! Geez, I'm so evil.

_Angel72_: I'm so glad that you enjoyed the tidbit of fujiryo from chapter 4. More to come!

_…the three dots_: suger and fujiryo mixes very _very_ well. Trust me (wink wink)


	6. biohazard

**CounterSpin **by purple jellybean hoarder

Warning: uh…everything? (jk)

Disclaimer: If only...pfffft! I also unfortunately don't own the lovely poem _Lullaby for the Cat _by Elizabeth Bishop.

---  
-----  
Chapter 6: biohazard  
-----  
---

_A psychokinetic— a psychokinetic of all things! _

Well that changes everything, doesn't it?

Inui allowed himself a small smile before entering his dark apartment. What an unexpected turn of events. Judging from Tezuka's face, even _he_ was caught unaware. And that was no ordinary feat.

Tensai Fuji Syusuke continues to live up to his name.

He kicked off his shoes and proceeded to crash onto the couch by the window. The dinner had left him excited yet oddly drained. Echizen had been confused and scared amidst the storm of talk and wonder, unable to make sense of what just happened. Inui had looked at him then, so small and fragile, insignificant in the eyes of many and probably to Echizen's own eyes as well.

If he only knew.

The initial surprise eventually melted away and everyone shifted their focus, eagerly jumping at every opportunity to convince a very shell-shocked youth to enter the Institution, despite the awkwardness of it all.

He chuckled lightly. Ah, that was to be expected. Telekinesis was a rare gift and like all psychic abilities, needed to be properly fostered before reaching to its full potential…

_Beep, beep, beep_

Inui raised himself from the leather couch and looked at the little flashing light on the videophone with a frown. Now _that_ was another unexpected thing. No one would normally call at this time of night. He pushed the button for talk.

"Is the line secure?" The voice was hoarse and muffled with static.

"It is now."

The blurry picture on the screen gradually cleared and Inui found himself staring at a familiar face.

"Hm, I'll say a 90 chance that you called for personal business and not to report. I must say I'm surprised to see you so curious. But shouldn't you be more careful? What if someone happens to eavesdrop on you?"

"Fuushuu. Everyone's too busy licking their wounds instead of planning for the offensive. It's quiet, for now."

Inui leaned back in his seat. "And here we were so tense for no reason at all."

"How is the kid?" The question held some animosity to it.

"Coping, I would suppose."

"Senpai," Kaidoh cut in suddenly, "is he really what we have been searching for?"

There was a pause as the other considered the question. "There _is_ something there. Even I, with my weak art, sensed a connection."

"…but it's not enough."

"I didn't say that. What gave you that idea? Has that great hope you once held died?"

"…"

"It is something that is difficult to detect and poorly understood. Have a little more faith, won't you?" He stared at the face now with hesitation and uncertainty. "You will return to Earth again, so no worries—"

"Who said I was worried?!"

Inui gave a wry smile. "Really? For a moment I thought those deluded buffoons had finally got to you. Momo wouldn't let you hear the end of it." He silently relished the disgusted look on the other's face, but immediately sobered. Now was not the time for jokes. "As for the boy, everything will unravel soon. He is to be presented to Headquarters tomorrow. He apparently has a psychic gift."

Kaidoh looked intrigued but sounded skeptical. "No way."

"I'm not kidding. He is indeed someone worthy of attention—" Inui tilted his head a little from the screen, as if recalling some distant memory, "—and someone worthy of reviving a long lost dream. We have reason to hope again." He turned back to Kaidoh. "It is only the very beginning and there is a long way to go. But don't be disappointed. We expect great things from him. Because with due time and gentle guidance, he _will_ become that very dreamweaver we have all esteemed him to be."

---

Under the bright lights of a large and otherwise quiet canteen, someone was having a dilemma.

Or rather…

To nya or not to nya.

That was the question.

Eiji stood a little off from the counter, overlooking two boxes of baked sweets, arms akimbo.

"Hmmmmm….hm."

He turned his head, eyes scrutinizing. The strawberry Danishes were looking quite enticing, with their delicious pastry top and mouthwatering sugared strawberries peeping from underneath the folds. They're warm too, he noted as he felt the box, so maybe, they would be better.

As in, better than those small tantalizing cinnamon rolls that were currently luring him with that light spicy aroma and rich creamy filling—

"…Nii—NYYYAAAAAAAAA!!!"

"Eiji, what are you doing?"

"Eh?" He spun around and lowered his arms. "Ah, Oishi! Come, come! Tell me what to get!" Eiji grabbed the other's sleeve, hauled him over and started to ramble in his animated way as he looked over Oishi's shoulder. "See? Now, with the Danishes, I can get the best of both worlds: strawberry _and_ pastry, and they're warm, so that means that they are fresh. Well, actually, both boxes only recently got here, so that's beside the point. Or I should try those delicate looking sweet rolls instead? Afterall, I had blueberry Danishes only yesterday and life is so boring without variety. And look! There's more Danishes than cinnama rolls left! And you know what _that_ means! It means that the rolls are _obviously_ better and yummier and more scrumptious—

"—Eiji, why don't you have both?"

He stopped. "Say what?"

"I said," Oishi repeated patiently, "why don't you take _both_ of them."

"But…nya!! I can't ruin my appetite! I want to try that new chocolate pudding after!" And with that said, Eiji broke into another round of debate.

Oishi watched with a smile. He almost wanted to slap himself at the absurdity of all this. Almost. Eiji was really adorably greedy when it came to sweet foods and desserts, despite the fact that it was already late afternoon.

"Here, how about this—Eiji, stop— we can split half of each, so that way, you can enjoy that pudding as we—wah!" Whatever Oishi had left to say, it was knocked right out by the turbulent force of spunk and intensity that was Kikumaru Eiji.

"Really? Ah, thank you, Oishi!" Eiji gave a happy laugh and hugged tighter, allowing his emotions to seep more easily. His eyes then softened and playfully bumped his forehead against the other's before leaping away to snatch a knife from the drawers.

A few minutes later, both sat down at a small round table, each munching on their treats.

"I wonder how Ochibi's doing," Eiji quietly broke the silence as he steered the half finished roll in the air like a plane. He propped his chin onto his other hand and stared pointedly at Oishi, waiting for him to reply.

Oishi immediately stopped chewing and looked up to the other with a sheepish expression. "I guess I really can't hide it from you."

"Don't be ridiculous, we're all in this together."

"Ah," Oishi began slowly, fingers fiddling with his napkin, "I really don't know the details. But I talked to Tezuka earlier and the news wasn't good."

"What? What are you talking about? What's wrong with Ochibi?!"

"Eiji, calm down! Please don't misunderstand. He's not physically hurt. But…it is clear that he suffers mentally. He has been very distracted and unfocused. Unable to concentrate on any mind strengthening exercises." He looked away, concern reflecting in his deep green eyes. "Not that Echizen isn't trying or anything like that, but there lacks a certain type of spirit, an inner desire. Like he has been exhausted."

He gave a strained smile at Eiji's perplexed look and continued. "We should be concentrating on his psychokinesis above all else for now. But progress is poor. And it feels like we are back where we started, lost and very blind…"

"Oishi." Eiji was beginning to feel guilty for dragging him through the worry again. He really didn't know what to do at times like this. He shut his eyes tightly in anger, why was he so helpless? Oishi was always there when he needed him, but here he was, useless and weak, unable to ease the fear in any way—

He jumped when he felt gentle warm hands closing over his own. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be burdening you too with this. It is just that I have been thinking about a lot of things lately. But thank you for listening."

"But Oishi—"

"No, I'm serious. I'm grateful for your time." He stood up, taking both his and Eiji's plates to the sink. "I just don't know how to break the news to Fuji, that's all."

"Oh," Eiji said softly, his mind already mulling on those last words. He hadn't seen Fuji all week ever since he came back to work —which was very odd, because Fuji never seemed to be the kind who would normally chain himself to a desk— and Ochibi too. Of course, the department building was large enough, but they were in the same division, so shouldn't they at least bump into each other?

He yelped in surprise at the sudden crash by the door.

"Fuji!" Oishi cried, running over to the fallen youth, carefully minding the toppled chairs strewed over the tiled floor, "are you alright?" He held out his arms to steady him but was pushed back.

"I'm ok. Sorry about that. I'll be more careful." Fuji dusted off his dark pants and smiled tightly in an attempt of reassurance. Yet neither were reassured. As far as anyone knew, Fuji Syusuke did not trip over chairs.

But even before that…

"Fuji, where were you all week?!" Eiji practically shouted.

"Working," came the quiet answer.

"For the _whole_ week?!"

"Aa."

"_What_?! Oishi!" Eiji whipped his head to Oishi who snapped back in surprise, "say something, nya!"

"Eh? Oh sorry." He quickly recomposed himself and his eyes darkened. "Eiji's right. Where have you been? You weren't even in your office at the times I knocked at your door." He noticed how Fuji was rapidly losing interest and grabbed his arm. "Fuji! Listen! We're worried about you! You suddenly disappear and everything falls apart— Echizen is sick, do you know that?!"

_Do you even care?_

Ah, that did it. Fuji stopped struggling

"I know that."

Wait, what?

"In fact, I know all about it. About how he is mentally exhausted, about how he pushes himself too hard despite that exhaustion, about how he collapsed today and was sent home. Everything I know." He shook himself free from Oishi's grasp and coolly turned to leave. "Now if you'll excuse me—"

Eiji grabbed the other's shoulder and roughly spun him around. "Fuji! What's wrong with you?!" His brows furrowed and his voice took on a quieter tone. "What's happening to you? Tell us what's wrong. We want to help… look at me, dammit!"

It seemed like forever, but when Fuji finally lifted his head, they realized for the first time how exhausted he was, how full of remorse were his dull bloodshot eyes. His body lost that once confident air and was instead hunched over in weariness.

"It's my fault." His voice was so soft that they both had to lean in to just barely hear it. "I shouldn't have unlocked that talent. It was a grave mistake and one I truly regret. He suffers again." He looked away as that tremendous wave of guilt threatened to rush out once more.

"…I don't know how to face him," he ended in a whisper.

"Fuji—"

"No, Oishi," Fuji held up a hand and took another shuttering breath. "I thought if he realized that he was psychokinetic, that veil of swarming doubts would lift and he could concentrate more on something else. But…" he winced and pressed his palm against his forehead. "That was not the case."

_He is powerful._

"So that's why," Oishi breathed. Everything was clicking into place. "He is affecting you too because he is living so close. Why didn't you tell us earlier?" he scolded gently.

Fuji only shook his head.

"Running won't solve anything. You need to talk to him, or he will grow worse. And that would lead to nowhere." He looked over at the still depressed youth and sighed. "Fuji, stop blaming yourself. His psychokinesis is an invaluable asset and should not be kept dormant." He frowned. "But as for the effects…"

"Nya, Fuji, do you want to come to the dorm? I'll keep Ochibi company. I won't be affected by it—"

"No!… ah, no. That's all right. It's my problem. I should be the one to fix this. And anyway, I shouldn't leave him, not when he is so vulnerable… but thank you." He closed his eyes and even managed a small smile. "I—I have to talk Ryoma, I guess. I've done enough damage by staying away."

"That's the spirit, nya!" Eiji gave a sudden slap on Fuji's shoulder and laughed loudly. "You go set Ochibi straight! I'm worried enough as it is!" He began to steer the other out of the room. "Come on! What are you waiting for? Time's a-wastin!"

"…a—ah."

They were already out in the hallway when Oishi's voice floated over. Yet the mere tone of it was enough to stop them in their tracks.

"It's good that you have made up your mind," the voice sounded strange and hollow, echoing from the room within. "But Echizen is a double-edged sword, with the ability to create and destroy. If you weren't so intent about taking care of him yourself—"

Fuji broke away from Eiji's grasp and headed back to the cafeteria. Oishi was still standing there, in the middle of those toppled chairs with his back to them.

"—but he is one of us now and we are not so heartless to disregard his well-being." Oishi turned to them then, his expression still doubtful, but underlying with something surprisingly fierce and protective.

"You need to calm him," he continued on in that mysterious way, "soothe his mind. You know what I'm talking about, right? He suffers from post-traumatic stress. The shock from witnessing the eradication of life is not something that can be so easily forgotten."

He was speaking slowly and deliberately, making sure that nothing was left out and being very careful with his words.

"His emotions are rampant. Full of pain and deep sorrow— but anger most of all. You have to be careful…" He trailed off and looked directly at Fuji. The anxiousness in his eyes was alarmingly apparent and Fuji was once again reminded of how serious the situation was.

"You _must_ be careful. Because everything is in your hands. Either you save him, or he will ruin the both of you."

---

Those worn concrete steps leading up to the darkened house now looked foreboding, and the grey overcast clouds gave off a deep fiery red from the setting sun. It was just like how it had been so many years ago, on a cool and breezy night, when his parents died. That cozy, homely environment was gone, shattered. His siblings soon moved out, unable to stay in a place that reminded them so much of family. The void grew into an abyss and that abyss engulfed everything. It was the end to a dream. And a part of him died as well.

A transition then, he had convinced himself. A transition for a more cautious him, a more reserved him. One who befuddled others, one who maintained a distance from others and one who refused to be hurt again…

So was this a transition too?

Fuji slowly unlocked the front door and effortlessly pushed it open. The darkness was the same here, as there was really only one kind. The one from which spawned all else. Was it evil? Or was it loneliness?

_Ryoma_?

He unexpectedly stumbled and held feebly onto the nearby fern stand for support. It was definitely worse now. With the amount of thoughts bombarding his head, he doubted if he could even make it upstairs.

He painfully pulled himself up and headed up those steps. His hand trailed along the wall as he willed those tired legs to cooperate.

Step by step. Closer and closer.

He knew Ryoma was in his room. Had always knew. Where else would Ryoma go? Where else _could_ Ryoma go? It was hard coming home together, tense and awkward, neither of them willing to speak. But it was even more painful watching Ryoma shut himself up in his room, wallowing in hate and suffering.

And in turn, he suffered too.

Blunderer, failure, tormentor, a dark corner of his mind chanted— you are everything. Because you are at fault, you are to blame. And because of this guilt, this overwhelming misery, all that is left of you is this pitiful heap of anguish and regret.

This all wouldn't have happened if he didn't bring Ryoma home, he snapped angrily. If he weren't here, he wouldn't be falling apart like this. This weak, pathetic part of him that he had so desperately tried to push away. He didn't need anyone and he certainly did not need to feel anything.

That's right, the little voice mocked. So that is why you were so concerned for Ryoma when he first arrived. That is why you stayed with him, why you eagerly volunteered to take him in and why you involved yourself in Ryoma's despair…

Face it, the little voice whispered, now malicious and snide, you are not who you think you are. Beneath that mask lies still that lonely ghost of a boy. That same boy who aches for acceptance and it is that same boy who fears rejection. And that is why you couldn't bring yourself to talk to Ryoma, couldn't bring yourself to stand in front of him and explain what was happening. That is why you only had enough courage to knock on his door to tell him that you left dinner on the floor, and that is why you keep running and running, waiting for the moment you wake from this bad dream.

Is he what you have hoped him to be? Has he fulfilled his purpose? That cruel laugh echoed again. The way you desperately hold onto those moments with him! The way you cherish his company! He's not much of a talker, but there is a presence at least, something that blinks at the back of the mind. There is another voice to wake up to and there is life in the house again—

Just how family was once, ne?

Fuji lowered his eyes. He was such a useless coward. And that was the simple reason to it all. Who knew that an assignment would affect him so much? Even when he first received it years ago, it did not trigger any hidden feelings. Yet here he was now, apprehensive and terrified.

He had completely messed up everything. Ryoma hardly touched his dinner now, hardly acknowledged him. In fact, Ryoma had every right to be angry at him. It was _his_ fault, after all. He had no right to dump all of his hopes and dreams onto him. No right to expect so much from him. No right to shove him into the grand scheme of things…

He now stood in front of Ryoma's door and the moon's silver light cast an eerie glow on its smooth surface. He had stared at this door many times before, but had no desire to open it. Now he was before it again, tense and uncertain.

Fuji reached tentatively for the knob—

_DON'T COME IN!!!_

—and nearly collapsed from the raw intensity of power behind that thought.

He leaned weakly against the wall as he tried to shake himself from the splitting headache. Anymore of this and he soon would probably be out cold. But he also wasn't about to back down just yet.

He steeled himself again and nudged the door open. It was dark but Fuji could still make out that silhouetted body huddled by the corner. His arms were wrapped round in a fetal position; he looked so small that way, defenseless even, and Fuji immediately felt an unexplainable desire to rush over and hold him.

But he stopped shortly when Ryoma lifted up his head to give him a piercing glare, "I _said_, leave me alone!" Ryoma jerked away to look out the window and scowled even more when he realized that Fuji hadn't moved. "Didn't you hear me? Get _out_!!"

"Ryoma, I want to talk to you—"

"There's nothing to talk about! I'm fine!"

"You're not well at all…" Fuji spoke softly and began to walk towards the boy.

"What are you doing? I don't want to see you!" The menacing glare was rapidly fading and a frightened look slowly took its place. "Stay away from me! I'm fine on my own! I don't need you!"

"Please, let me help—"

It was like watching a movie in slow motion, really, and Fuji watched with fascination, when that angry angelic face crumpled and all defenses broke.

"_Stop_ it! I don't need your help! Don't you think you've had enough fun already? I can't sleep, I can't even _think_ straight and every waking hour is hell to me! What else are you planning to do? All that time spying on me! Only for this! You've done enough damage! I don't care anymore how much your stupid group needs me, this life is even worse than the one in the orphanage! At least in Maho, above those gossiping murmurs and taunting words, I could sleep away my sorrows!"

"Don't come near me! Don't _touch_ me!" His voice was rising sharply and his eyes grew wide with fright. "Are you happy now? Are you satisfied? I'm going insane! I can't block it! I don't know _how_ to block it!" Ryoma started to shake and vainly wrapped his arms around himself. "They keep coming into my head, coming and coming. Every little single damn thing that _moves_ I know about it!"

_Ryoma_—

"Stop going into my head! Won't you leave me _alone_?!" Ryoma whipped around to face him, knuckles white and clutching at his hair, eyes brimming with frustration and tears. They were so close to each other already, but neither was sure of what to do.

"Don't come any closer," he whispered, dropping back onto the floor in defeat.

"I…" Fuji kneeled before the sobbing youth. It was those same wretched tears that he had once shed, those same cursed tears that he had promised himself to never be affected again, now stirred something deep within him. "I'm sorry," he tried again. He wondered for a split second if he had been like this, so vulnerable, so tormented. He didn't remember. It seemed so long ago. Yet the crystal tears from those innocent eyes were so heart wrenching. Such sad eyes. Did he have them still?

His hands were moving on their own, arms encircling Ryoma's small frame. It was almost a miracle that Ryoma didn't shrink away or slap at his hands, but remained motionless, as if surrendering to what Fuji was prepared to do next.

"I am really, truly sorry." And Fuji hugged tightly at the shaking bundle.

---

Was it only a few minutes, or did it feel that way in a span of many hours? Whatever it was, Fuji thought, it brought sanctuary… and a peace of sorts. They were still in Ryoma's room, still in that little corner by the window, but there were no more tears and a comfortable silence had washed over them.

He gave another relieved sigh and looked down at the youth curled up against him with warm eyes. It was difficult at first, but Fuji was finally able to slip through those crumbling mental barriers, and with gentle coaxing, smoothed those rough waves of thought— an action not without consequences because he was beginning to feel that heavy pull of mental depletion. But Ryoma was already falling fast towards the welcoming arms of sleep, and that was all that actually mattered for now.

And yet, he couldn't help but to ponder about the future. So this was what he had worked so hard for, this was what he had poured his days over for, and this was what will eventually bring the end to their warring days…

Child, Messenger, Angel—whatever he was, he was precious. Because he represented hope and everything they held dear. But that was not all, that should not be all. He was not just some instrument, not something to be used, but a person as well, with emotions and a mind of his own. Someone with his own abilities, someone who will make a difference and someone who will save them all…

He turned his attention back to the youth in his arms and smiled sadly.

Will you save me too?

_ Minnow, go to sleep and dream,  
Close your great big eyes;  
Round your bed Events prepare  
The pleasantest surprise._

Because—he was lost; all hope was lost. He was alone and grasping at nothing. He was scared, oh yes, and downright miserable with life. It was like living an empty existence for the longest time, one filled with isolation and darkness.

But along came Ryoma and everything changed. Here was a new start, a new opportunity. And the chance to live again—

They were the same. They had the same eyes, the same bleeding hearts, the same desires. Here was finally someone who can understand him, relate to him, someone who he can share his joys and griefs with. It was surely a dream come true.

So what was next? He knew what all this meant. He had to hold on and take advantage of the situation. Who knew what the future may bring? He didn't ever want to slide into that pit of despair again. He refused to. And anyway, he had hurt Ryoma enough with his foolishness. There won't be any more hesitations.

It was time to make amends and leave that realm of darkness forever. All that was left now was to make it work— no matter how long, no matter how hard— with all his power… because he was lonely and desperate. He craved for that kind of family environment. He wanted to be able to laugh in that carefree way again, wanted to show Ryoma the kind of life that he alone had rekindled from deep within—

But he wanted to see those olive eyes light up with happiness most of all…

Silently, Fuji reached over to pull the quilt from the bed. He tucked it around the slumbering youth with care and leaned over to gently brush those dark locks from that fevered head.

Ryoma, I will protect you.

_Joy and Love will both be yours,  
Minnow, don't be glum.  
Happy days are coming soon--  
Sleep, and let them come..._

_.  
.  
.  
_

Sweet dreams.

-----to be continued

A/N: Well, sue me. Another late chapter…as expected. (Did anyone miss me? --jj) I think none of you were expecting a chapter like this. Angst, angst, angst! Eeep! I don't think some of you may like how the story is going now! (looks around nervously) I wonder how you guys are all thinking about this story though. I think I may have included (and will probably continue to include) too many elements and therefore have dug myself a very, very deep hole… I'm so stupid (sobs). As you may all have realized by now, I unfortunately am, a slow, s-l-o-w writer and therefore, an even slower updater. Blame school. And is it just me or the chapters just keep getting longer? I sense a problem…

P.S. maybe I'll go on hiatus (?)

Thanks:

_Ann_: alas, I can only do so much. (cries) But let's look on the bright side, shall we? At least I am still updating, only slower… Hope you won't abandon me!

_Ikyutakei_: ahhh! After a long, long wait, I am back! Thanks for the review!

_… the 3 dots _: (contented sigh) ah, I'm so glad that someone likes the last chapter. I was originally planning to delay the previous chapter a little longer for editing, but then decided against it. Everyone waited long enough. . Heck, everyone waited long enough for _this_ chapter. (is it ok for me to call you 'the three dots'?)

_IchigoCake_: wow! Another fujiryo fan! Welcome, welcome! Your review was amazing!

_Ikedas_: yes, I love a panicked Ryoma too. Though this was a rather sad chapter with not much cute Ryoma action, I sure hope that's to change! Really, I don't know where my mind takes me sometimes : -.-' As always, thanks for your encouraging review!

_Risen_: (takes given cookie, munches and talks with mouth full) A day is never bad when there's fujiryo, I say! I'm so happy that you like the progress of this story. It takes a lot of what little free time I have now, and it's always rewarding to find that someone (whether lying or not) writes a review saying that they like it! I hope you _actually _like it though.

_Cheeseburger of Doom_: really? You really enjoyed the last chapter? That's always good news! Hope you'll enjoy the ones coming up too!

_Kasugai__ gummie_: (finishes earlier cookie and munches on kasugai gummie's offered cookie) ding ding ding! We have a winner! Was everything so easy to figure out? (sobs) Aw, and I thought I made it interesting for everyone! T.T That's ok, though. As long as there's someone out there who likes this, all is well.

_Angel72_: whoa there! You're just picking up the clues like Swiffer™! I'm quite amazed that there is someone out there who pays so much attention to my fic! (gives humongous hug) I can't tell you anything, unfortunately, so you'll have to wait—yes, it's painful, I know—and watch me do my best at screwing up their lives…I meant, make— uh— make their lives interesting… yeah.

_Cayenne_: and finally, I have updated! Go me! Thanks for reviewing!

_Neko Spirit_: ah, my dear, even when I first started on this story had no, absolutely _no_ idea that Ryoma was going to turn physic. But it always gives me good tingles to know that at least whatever I write is not totally trash and there's someone out there who'll like it!

_Black Kyra_: aw, it's not that good at all! But I'm so glad that you're excited about this fic! Thanks for the ego boost!

_Kawaii Chibi Yami_: hm, horny fuji? That's giving me some coughNAUGHTYcough ideas… And Fuji and Ryoma _are_ so cute together!!! Not putting them together in my first fic is like a sin.


	7. d and d

**CounterSpin **by purple jellybean hoarder

Warning: Random craziness ahead. One whopping strange chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: sadly, I didn't come up with the title either.

---  
-----  
Chapter 7: D & D, Dungeons and Dragons(TM)  
-----  
---

"Hm."

Ryoma looked bitterly at his breakfast. Glared at it. Then slid his eyes to the fork over at his left and tried to stare that down too. He clenched his fists on his lap and slouched back into his seat, lips forming a small frown.

Of all the possible infuriating, preposterous and irrational ways to prove a point—

Olive eyes flicked up once but then trailed back down to the plate before him. There wasn't anything _wrong_ with it. No, not today, strangely. But that wasn't the point. Fuji must have been planning this whole disaster for some while now, that bastard. Was the concept of acting 'normal' so hard to accept?

Calm down, he silently told himself. Don't crack. Fuji was only up with another one of his ridiculous games… again. He'd grow tired of it soon enough when he realizes that Echizen Ryoma isn't someone who gets easily persuaded—

"Ryoma, you've been staring at your toast for the past ten minutes. It's going to get cold."

…_or_ damn intimidated, either.

He watched with glowering eyes at how Fuji smoothly slid into the opposite seat with his own food. That delicious smell wafted over to where he was and he struggled to keep those taste buds under control.

"Um."

Fuji stopped picking up his chopsticks halfway to peer at the scowl on the other's face. "Ryoma? You _are_ hungry, right?" He paused a bit before continuing. "Is the toast ok? I can always get you another one—"

"I'm fine," he snapped irritably. And with that said, Ryoma slowly picked up the piece of bread, feeling that heavy weight of dread settling at the bottom of his stomach. Curse that time Fuji took him to a Japanese restaurant. Curse his preference for Japanese food. Curse his decision to ask for seconds…

"If I knew better, Ryoma, I would say that you don't like it," came Fuji's voice again. "But I've never heard a complaint once. You were always so happy and forgiving with whatever I gave you— like that fiasco with the burnt chicken. Or that bizarre accident where I knocked the vinegar into the potatoes. And…" Fuji tilted his head with a sheepish smile, "let's not forget the time when I mistook the Tabasco sauce for olive oil. Maa, that was so embarrassing—"

Ryoma managed to not flinch at the memory.

"—which reminds me to buy more Tabasco sauce. And more wasabi. Wasabi's the best." Fuji leaned forward and rested his cheek against his palm. "But Ryoma, is there anything you want me to pick up as well? Cookies? Fruit? Milk...?"

_A certain type of grape flavored drink?_

"—nothing?" A puzzled look was thrown at Ryoma, still oblivious to those seething eyes. "Even a little input? Absolutely no preferences?" Fuji leaned back into his seat, letting out a helpless sigh. "Really now, I seriously wonder what you like to eat sometimes."

_The dish that you're eating! The same damn food that you've been taunting me for the last two months! The very kind of stuff that defines Japanese cuisine!_

"You know that you can always talk to me, right? I'd love to hear your opinions." There was a sound of movement and Ryoma suddenly found Fuji's face very close, blue eyes staring straight into his. "Ryoma, I'm serious. We practically live together. I don't want you to feel awkward at all. I'll feel bad if you don't like the food. I'm not the kind of person who would get offended easily. Honest. You never tell me anything." He trailed off into an uncomfortable silence.

"…_unless_ it's a secret." And Fuji sat back again, innocent once more.

Creepy bastard.

Ryoma narrowed his eyes and carefully observed the other before him. Even after all that time spent on deciphering this strange youth, the puzzle remained the same: the one known as Fuji Syusuke was frustrating, mystifying, and incredibly complicated.

But then, there were moments. Moments where he noticed a subtle shift from that cool exterior and witnessed from that rare sparkle, tiny brief glimpses of another life. Such as that time they watched fireflies together. Or when Fuji had first taught him how to properly hold that red wakizashi—

And then, that moment just now.

It was all so confusing. Upon illusions that soon reverted back to its original form. It always left him wondering if they really did occur—when that old pretense slipped off and revealed something deeper; it almost seemed surreal…

Like that night.

He quickly stopped that train of thought. A foolish slip of weakness, he reminded himself. From the stress. From the new environment. That was all. And Fuji-senpai was just there to comfort him. It was only natural.

To be guarded, to be untouchable—these were qualities he had yet to perfect. To build, to learn, to experience this life like a constant battle, over and over again. Fight fire with fire, went the saying… but what happens when that fire turns out to be a full blown blaze?

"Japanese food."

Fuji's head snapped up and he looked at Ryoma in surprise. "I'm sorry. What was that?"

Ryoma tried hard to fight off that embarrassing blush. "I _said_," he almost growled out, "I like Japanese food."

Fuji let out a beautiful smile and immediately switched their breakfasts around. Ryoma watched, transfixed, as that mouthwatering plate of rice and roasted fish came closer before him, his fingers just itching to grab the chopsticks…

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Ryoma shot him a sour look. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't be silly, Ryoma," said Fuji. "You're so stubborn, it just can't be healthy. You've got to relax. Everyone's going to be scared away if you're so uptight all the time. And you never accept my help either. Maybe I should take you to see Inui instead. He's very good at worming out people's issues—"

"I do _not_ have issues!"

"Oh?" Fuji stopped and Ryoma thought he saw a glimmer of blue from those closed eyes. "Now Ryoma, there are many things I tolerate, and lying is not one of them. Especially when it's not going to get you out of this situation. But since you are still," he stressed on the word, "_stubborn_ about it, I suppose we can arrange for something."

"…"

"Don't make that face. There's nothing to worry about. Nothing dangerous. Only a simple bet. Where you can put that stubborn attitude to use."

A pause.

"Now stop it. I'll even make it fun. If I lose, I'll have to do something you tell me. But if it turns out otherwise…" Fuji smiled gently before straightening up in his seat, folding his arms on the table. "How about we lay the conditions down right now? It can be anything you wish."

Anything?

"A friendly game. With no tricks." He chuckled, "you're not scared, are you?"

Bright eyes flashed. "Fine. If I win, you'll have to burn that entire stash of pictures of me in a Harlequin suit."

Blue eyes revealed themselves, clearly not amused. "And if _I_ win," purred Fuji, that pleasant voice now echoed with a dark undertone, "you'll have to stop locking your door at night."

He leaned closer. "So I can start a pajamas theme collection."

Ryoma paled.

---

If there ever was a quote that mentioned how sunny days brought in sunny thoughts, that person ought to be smacked.

No. Make that maimed.

"PAINTBALL!" cried Momo as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's _only_ paintball, Inui-senpai! Stop making it so complicated!"

"You were always such a killjoy, Momo. There's nothing wrong with a little competition—"

"That's not called competition!" Momo jabbed violently at the innocent looking water cooler. "That's called…induced suicide!"

Eiji slowly edged himself away from the crowd that was standing at a 5 meter radius away from Inui. Maybe, if he was quiet enough, he could slip away and dash home as if nothing ever happened—

"And no chickening out. Or it's an automatic glassful of Hyper Remix Sparkling Soda. Kikumaru, that means you."

"_Whaaat_?" Eiji spun around and glared daggers at Inui. "Who made such a stupid rule?" He stomped back to the circle, determined to get some say in this. "I'm not in the mood for another stomach ache! Who knows what's in that nasty stuff? It's all white and frothy and if you tilt your head at just the right angle, you can see the vapor coming out from it!"

"Now, just let me explain—"

"I don't care what you have to say about this! There is no way I'm going to drink that disgusting contra-productive ooze! And trust me, I had to try all of them! They smell bad, taste bad and most of all, _sound_ bad! Can't you think of better names!"

If Eiji had bothered to look around him, he would've realized that he was beginning to form a respectable 5 meter radius circle of his own.

"And how did it get involved with paintball, anyway! I thought this was a team outing! As in fun! As in not scared shitless! Because I am _never_—" He stopped. "Why is the soda glowing?"

Inui's glasses glinted. "New ingredient. Florescent bacteria—"

"Waaaahhh!"

"—relatively harmless—"

"Nyaaaaa! Save me, Oishi!"

"—adds a tangy feel to the taste buds—" But by that time, complete pandemonium had broken out, and no one could hear themselves let alone hear Inui.

Among the few who could still make out that distant cry of what little was left of their dignity, Ryoma stood a little off to the side, tugging at his dark baggy pants. The quiet uneasiness that first appeared as a tiny shiver had somehow amplified into a restless disaster when Inui-senpai introduced another awful creation. Of course, this didn't mean that he was scared. Oh no. Even if he had never played 'paintball' in his life and had no prior training on how to aim _anything_ with a gun, he was still going to take the challenge head on.

Nor did it mean that he was about to back out either. Absolutely not. Strictly forbidden. He was going to stick by this until the very end, even if it killed him. Because he wasn't about to allow Fuji the gratification of knowing just how deep the trouble he was in…

"It isn't so bad, Ryoma," said Fuji, who was standing calmly next to him. "If you hate the drink so much, all you have to do is find one of the red ribbons. Or if you get hit before eliminating anyone, you'll only need to drink a tiny sample. Of course, the amount increases with the number of people you hit." His eyes swept to the other side of the wood clearing, pausing only for a moment on an individual named Mizuki. "And look, there are so many targets. You'll do fine."

Ryoma looked away.

"Now don't be a spoilsport. Even I'm planning to go all out. As much as I would love to try Inui's new drink, there's a much better prize I'm after, ne?" He smiled gently and moved his mouth to the other's ear, as if in a whisper—

_I do hope you're ready, Ryoma. Because the game begins now… _

-

Stealth. Like the tiger of the jungle, like the wildcat of the mountains, like the snapping turtle of the murky waters—where was the stupid Mamushi when you needed him?

Momo squatted near the bushes, sharp eyes picking out any movement through a tiny peephole. Damn, if it weren't for that damn Psi-detector, he would be waltzing through this like moon walk. Yet here he was, hiding like some scared little duck, defenseless and unable to do much about the situation.

"Psst, Momo. Don't fall asleep. Our sanity's at stake."

"Eh. Kikumaru-senpai. I don't think you should bother him anymore…"

A rustle. "Nonsense, Kachirou. We have to make sure he's doing his job."

"But, Kikumaru-senpai. You might distract him. He needs concentration," came another whispered reply.

"Are you serious? This is Momo we're talking about! Like he has _any_ to begin with—!"

Momo's head whipped to his left, a vein visibly throbbing. "All of you," he hissed, "hush _up!_ What if someone hears?" He glanced fearfully behind him, before turning back to the group. "Look, this is getting us nowhere. We need a plan. We got Jirou only because he was still sleepwalking. And that Yanagisawa just _happened_ to walk right into the clearing when we all jumped him. But if Eiji-senpai hadn't spotted Tezuka right after, we all would be facing that hideous juice by now."

The others shivered.

"What I'm getting at is, we've need to be more aggressive. Waiting is useless. We need to strike. And we need that ribbon. Even if we're a team, there are still a lot of people who are playing individually. Heck, there are only 5 ribbons! Five! Think of what that means!"

"So what I suggest is this," said Momo, after regaining some composure, "we'll spread out to cover more ground, while we shoot down every person that crosses our path… er, with some exceptions. Because in that case, we'll have to run for our lives."

They nodded. Well, except for one.

"Where's Horio-kun?"

-

Horio Satoshi had always prided himself as a clever guy. So when he realized that the group wasn't getting much of anything done, he decided to take the initiative and scout ahead.

He was an innovator, an explorer. He was resourceful; he was cautious. He crept along the thickets, blended into the wavering shadows. Under a watchful eye, he observed. Silence was his ally, patience was his strength. He was every bit like the feared hunter: calculating and deadly.

He picked up a movement on the other side of a row of hedges and grinned. Another unsuspecting target. Just wait until he tells his senpai-tachi about this.

He carefully crept over and dropped to a crouch. He made another check on his gun and adjusted his bright yellow helmet. Better not get careless. As his two years of experience in paintball had taught him, it was to be always on the alert. No matter what happened, no matter what the circumstance was, when one was in a dangerous situation, never for a second let the mind wander off—

And that was how he collided head on into a very surprised Echizen Ryoma.

-

It was two hours into the game when Mizuki Hajime came up with the unpleasant revelation that he may have lost the whereabouts of a certain rival.

He stepped back into the shadow of a big oak tree while he mentally backtracked his thoughts. He was almost certain that said rival made a sharp turn to the left past the small bush _before_ zigzagging over to the small birch next to the main path.

…or was it straight past the small bush and _then_ crossing over the main path to the other side …?

Uh oh.

Mizuki rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. Arg, all his efforts—wasted! And here he thought that he could finally corner and show that infuriating Fuji Syusuke that at least he could best him in _something_. Oh, he would love see that face, so full of shock and disbelief, finally realizing that he, the great Mizuki Hajime, was on par with him and above all— at long _bloody_ last— acknowledging him as a damn _rival_…!

He paused in mid rant and strained his ears at a growing rumble. Wolves? Wild boar? That can't be right, this forest was built on artificial grounds and no dangerous animals were ever reported to have been brought here. So what then, was making that noise?

His eyes widened and swiftly dove into a group of dense shrubs just as Aoi Kentarou and Kisarazu Ryou grinded to a screeching halt to jump into the very same spot he was currently occupying.

Three pairs of shocked eyes stared at one another. Blinked. Then stared some more.

"What—"

Kisarazu slapped a hand over Mizuki's mouth and turned to Kentarou. "I think he got Atsushi. Damn, I didn't think that he'll see through that trick."

"Ugh. I shouldn't have joked around like that. But he really looked harmless."

"You should've just shot him in the very beginning. He has already demolished half of the team."

"I didn't mean to give him target practice! He hardly had any aim in the beginning!"

"That was _before_! Now he doesn't even need to turn his head anymore!"

Mizuki decided he didn't quite like the idea of being ignored and promptly yanked that offending hand from his mouth. Thank goodness he taught Atsushi better manners. "What are you talking about? Who's he?"

"Quiet, Mizuki. He's coming."

Better manners indeed.

He curiously peered down the path from which the two ran up. Another worthy opponent? Was it Tezuka? Atobe?

He nearly sighed in disappointment when he saw Echizen Ryoma instead—

"Don't move, Senpai." Kentarou hissed frantically between his teeth. "Once you move, you're dead."

—and did a double take.

-

Inui didn't bother hiding his grin when he saw Oishi emerge into the clearing. "So? Who was it?"

If possible, Oishi's expression grew even more miserable. "Tezuka."

"Ah." Inui gave the monitor a quick glance. "He's doing amazingly well, as usual. Eight hits and counting."

"Geez, don't remind me." He nervously eyed the sprawled and moaning group behind him and then at the glass of frothy juice in Inui's hand. "Er, do I really have to drink that much?"

"What? Oh, of course. The amount doubles for every person you take down. Did I forget to mention that?"

Oishi felt the color drain from his face and muttered a quick excuse for the washroom.

Inui shrugged and turned back to the Psi-detector. Hm, not spiking yet, he noted, somewhat disheartened. He scanned the data readings: Taka-san was still in the game; Kikumaru's team had one down; Atobe had the second highest hits and… Fuji had no hits. Well, that was odd. Wasn't Fuji the one who suggested the whole paintball idea?

He read on and felt utterly stumped when he found yet another strange discovery: wasn't Echizen the one who claimed that he had no experience in paintball? Because those numbers told a completely different story.

"Ii data," he mumbled as he whipped out a notebook.

-

Shock, he figured with a tinge of irony, was probably keeping him from reacting from the whole absurdity of it all. Save for that unholy screaming from a previously unknown nook in his mind, Mizuki could say that he felt pretty calm about it.

Keeping calm was good. Fidgeting was bad.

He thought frantically through his choices: run, shoot or hide? Staying put could be his best bet. Maybe, if they were quiet long enough, Echizen would give up and leave. Or, if they were equally lucky, Echizen would overlook and pass by them altogether! As long as no one made a noise or bumped into anything, things were going to be _just_ _fine_…

The shrubs on the other side of the road suddenly wavered a bit and a squirrel shot out from underneath the safety of the shade. The three of them watched tensely from the corner of their eyes, desperate to draw their attention elsewhere—

**splot!**

Or not.

Mizuki darted his eyes back to the ever approaching figure and attempted to reboot his brain. Please tell him he did not just see that, he pleaded silently. Please tell him that the Big Bad Sharpshooter wasn't going to annihilate him from the game.

A weakness. If he only knew a weakness.

_Echizen Ryoma. Height: 151cm; weight: 50kg; blood type: O; left hand dominant_, rattled off a little voice in his head. _Current housemate to Fuji Syusuke. Has psychokinetic abilities—_

Oh, he had heard about his psychokinesis all right. He had heard about it from the Council. Yuuta-kun was furious when he found out, shutting himself in his room for days. A complicated and touchy subject, considering his family's history. It was understandable.

And that was why he did not come today, why he deliberately ignored his brother's invitation again. Perhaps it was better to fantasize than to encounter this sinking reality. Perhaps it was easier to imagine him as a nameless nobody instead of someone who had finally caught his precious brother's attention…

The leaves gave a muffed crunch in the dead silence and Mizuki slumped lower. As much as he was unwilling to admit, Echizen was sneaking closer and closer to their location. Exactly how he was pulling this off remained unsolved. The path was lined with dense vegetation on either side and the only sounds were those from the occasional chatter of birds. What was giving them away?

He slid his gaze over to where Kisarazu was shifting uncomfortably in his spot and frowned. The afternoon temperature for that day was a little too warm for early summer and huddling in a tiny area was certainly not the best idea in this weather. But if what he suspected was correct, then they were in a deeper trouble than he had first thought—

They all knew the risks. If the threat was not enough, then the consequence was. So that was why they did not dare inflict their abilities on each other during the game. A slip or an accident, anything could turn out disastrous. The concept itself was easy to understand: according to psychical law, all exerted physic actions were apparent in the form of waves. The stronger the wave, the stronger the force. That was the principle.

But there were always exceptions. And the detection of moving objects was the most basal form of psychokinesis. It required little to no conscious effort. It was a property that curiously did not work like the way sonars do. The waves flowed into all minds, yet only those with the natural gift can decipher them.

So this was why Echizen was still in the game and why the Psi-dectector had not tipped off. With this kind of edge, he could predict the trajectory of moving objects; he could even attune his sensitivity to the movements of those who he had encountered— Mizuki gulped nervously.

The eventual end to their one-sided stalement turned out rather differently than he had imagined. Either he had incredible luck, or those hours spent from spying on Fuji-kun had finally paid off, because with another sure '_splot!'_ Echizen missed him and nailed Kisarazu on the chest. Kentarou, who was closest to Kisarazu, gave a startled jump and bolted out from his hiding place. He glanced wildly at that smug face before pelting down the opposite end of the road, the other hot on his heels.

Whoa. Scary.

Mizuki emerged slowly from the shrubs once it was quiet again, his hand clutched loosely onto the paint gun. He turned to see Kisarazu stumble in the direction of the entrance gates, grumbling as he went. Mizuki watched him leave, not quite sure of what to say. His mind was still refreshingly blank from the traumatic episode, and he was feeling much too relieved to care. But what he did know was that faint trickle of a different sort of excitement, a tantalizing suspense, wrapped up in some delicious feelthat he didn't quite remember in so long. He knew that he had stumbled upon something forbidden, something meant to stay secret. Nonetheless, he felt privileged at the chance.

So there was more to this power than what everyone had been led to believe, and the level of play would continue to rise no matter what the Council may think. Like when the first theory of hybridization was proposed, it had been a breakthrough, a revolution. Along came the second one and the possibilities appeared endless. Despite the price the Fujis had paid for their knowledge and perception, everything would continue to move on in radical steps, beyond what was once that tiny and conventional window of imagination…

God, he found himself wondering, what else was he unaware of?

He heard a soft thump from behind and wheeled around. Speechless, he stared down at the gun barrel pointed alarmingly close to his chest, then up into striking blue eyes.

"I suppose he has about enough practice by now, don't you think?"

Oh shit.

-

"_Alright_," Momo grounded out, "so nobody has found anything. That's still fine. As long as the game is still going and we aren't eliminated yet, there is nothing to worry about."

"Eiji-senpai should be coming back anytime now," he said, voice growing steadily lower as his mood darkened, "and we'll search again. No need to panic. Just stay calm. Just calm. Stay calm. Calmness."

Kachirou and Katsuo exchanged a questionable gaze.

"And where the hell is Horio? He disappeared! Just wait until I get my hands on him," cried Momo, shaking his fist, "and that'll teach him to think twice about ever abandoning his teammates! I'll knock so much sense into him that he'll—"

They nearly screamed bloody murder when Eiji landed wordlessly beside them, disheveled and breathless. Both hands grabbed Momo's shoulders and shook them vigorously. "Oh— oh God!" he wheezed. "He tried to kill me!"

"Huh?"

"Paint grenades— "

"What?"

"Like a _freakin'_ angry rabbit—"

"_Who_?"

"Heading this way—"

"…"

"_Into mud puddle_!"

Momo resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the incoherent babble. He tugged the hands off him and attempted to try again. Afterall, anyone who got Eiji-senpai this frazzled deserved some attention. "Eiji-senpai! Would you— I said _listen_—calm down! I can't understand anything when you're hyperventilating so much!"

"Nevermind," said Eiji after a few excruciating seconds, still struggling to catch his breath, "just start running. Run! Before he finds us!"

He snapped his mouth shut when the shrubs behind them parted. The four of them scampered back as a figure stepped out. A figure covered in mud from head to toe. Angry eyes bored right at them.

"Allow me to repay you for pushing me into the nearby ditch," Ryoma growled, tilting his head as he pulled his gun up. The sunlight reflected off from the cool metal of the gun and into those olive eyes, giving them an odd golden color. They seemed to glow intensely all at once, burning away like hellfire.

"_Mada mada__ dane_."

And that was when they all ran for their lives.

-

Blue eyes blinked into focus, sweeping the area in hasty motions. Amongst the darker shades of the forest floor, he nearly missed the blood red of a fluttering ribbon.

Eyes blinked again and Eiji signaled to the team running beside him. They skidded along the ground, legs angling for friction before diving into another heavily wooded area.

The sound of a second thump behind them was still too close for comfort. This wild goose chase had been going on for much too long and it was about time it ended. As much as he loved the thrill of participating in their rare get-together events, dancing a dangerous tango with Inui's juice proved detrimental to anyone's health. He was going to snatch the ribbon and win this cursed match no matter how much he loved Ochibi.

Consciousness be damned.

The group was able to rush forward a few more steps before the pellet of paintballs came. Sure, deadly shots. Ones that missed them by mere millimeters. Either by chance or luck, no one was willing to question further.

**splot!**

Ryoma appeared silently next to them and they nearly veered off course. Kachirou was down. Eyes flashed with trepidation, breaths came out in harsh gasps and footfalls thundered in the silence. Guns poised, hands gripping it like a lifeline. There really was nowhere to run, was there? The final showdown was here.

Ryoma slipped a bit from the mud stuck on the sole of his heel but no one seemed to notice. They were much too absorbed by the doom that would fall upon them least they lost. Much too terrified at the mere image of that foul tasting sludge. Eiji swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry. The fast, easy win he had in mind was drifting further and further away from his reach by the second. Especially with the current situation, if that ominous presence was any indication at all. They all stared hauntingly back, eyes blank and unfocused. Letting everything fall away save for that same metal gleam, that same kind of determination they had seen only a few moments ago rushing up to meet them from over Ryoma's shoulder…

wait, wasn't that—

_Splot! Splot!_

"—yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!"

_splotsplotsplotsplotsplotsplostplostplostplostplostplostplostplot_

-

"And then… and _then_," giggled Momo, tears streaming down his face. "Echizen got smacked in the buttcheeks!"

Ryoma turned away from the crowd, growling softly at the attention and sulked darkly. Anything to get his mind away from the embarrassment that threatened to explode from what little his tolerance could handle.

He had a faint idea that he was being followed throughout the game. The person always stayed a fair distance away so he never gave it a second thought. But just when his mind was so preoccupied with bringing Kikumaru-senpai's team down did he momentarily forget about the potential danger—Fuji came out of nowhere and slaughtered them all.

In a blink of an eye, the game was over.

"Don't be upset Ryoma," cooed Fuji from behind. It was just his rotten luck that Fuji did not mind the sticky mixture of paint and mud either and tenderly pressed his cheek against his. "If you're unhappy about this, I promise to make it up to you tonight. After I take those pictures, that is."

Ryoma pressed his lips together. That sounded so wrong.

"Congratulations, Echizen," Inui saturated over gleefully. "You just won yourself half of the juice I brought over. It's a bit much to finish all of it right here. So make sure you do that once you get home."

"I'll watch him," offered Fuji with utmost seriousness.

Ryoma shut his eyes and groaned inwardly.

Inui looked at his watch. "Hm, I guess that's it. Let's call it a day." And everyone began to shuffle toward the changing rooms; some were still stumbling from the after affects of Inui's soda. They were about to pass the forest gates when someone remembered something important.

"Wait," said Oshitari. "Has anyone seen Atobe?"

Everybody looked around.

"Screw that," someone else shouted, "where's Tezuka!"

-

_: meanwhile… :_

"Well, it seems like I have caught someone unaware." Atobe grinned triumphantly at the figure standing a few meters away.

Tezuka turned around and sighed. They both had their ribbons, so getting hit meant nothing. The game was pretty much finished if not done already, and everyone was probably waiting for them to come back. The sooner Atobe got what he wanted, the sooner he could go home. He halfheartedly raised his hands above his head. "Let's get this over with."

Atobe narrowed his eyes at the mocking gesture and raised his gun. "Patience, Tezuka. Patience."

_: 5 minutes later… :_

"Atobe," said Tezuka with an annoyed suspicion growing in his voice, "you're out of paintballs, aren't you?"

"Wh-what? What gave you that idea? I'm just giving you some time to admire my alluring stance before— hey, where are you going?"

Tezuka had promptly turned his back and resumed walking.

"Tezuka! Come back here!" Atobe yelled with as much grace as he could muster. "Don't walk away when someone is talking! Ore-sama is not finished yet!"

Tezuka walked even faster.

"I'll tell you something, Tezuka. There is only one true winner at this game," fumed Atobe, chasing the other in determined strides. Neither was willing to slow down and neither was willing to bend to each other's demand.

"…and it sure isn't _you_!"

---

The soft light from the chandeliers gave off a romantic air to the place. The rich carpet and the antique paintings did too. Everywhere in the long hallway was layered in elegance and splendor. There was a kind of mythical beauty to the whole scene, a timeless enchantment, that would be dazzling and delightful— had the grim silence not told otherwise.

Tezuka stood patiently before the tall mahogany doors. His eyes idly traced the animal figures that were carved deeply into the thick wood. Glossy, varnished eyes stared right back: they were the silent and solemn witnesses to those who passed through their gates; fierce guardians to their posts. He had once wondered if they had ever been real at all— the details that gave them life and color were so fine, so intricate, so carefully made. It seemed like only yesterday when he first laid his eyes upon them, when he was still unworldly and inexperienced, holding rapt fascination in all his senses.

But those days were long gone. And in the end, those carvings were still such soulless things. The fantasy drew to a close; its magic disappeared. He began to see the world as it was intended to be seen. Everything sharpened, grew more focused. He shook his head slowly, deliberately. There was nothing to feel regretful over. Nothing to miss. He had simply grown up, shedding away that tattered shell of ignorance he had never knew existed.

Some things were never meant to stay forever. He lost, he learned, he sacrificed, he perfected. And in time, became the person he was now.

Because what had replaced that childish wonder was something far more crucial and complex. Because he could not afford to be careless here, especially here of all places…

"Tezuka-san," a timid voice broke through his thoughts. "The Inner Chamber is ready to see you now…. desu."

He nodded to the messenger and stepped through the now opened doors. The curtains hanging from the opposite end of the room were drawn tightly shut, shielding away all forms of cool natural light. In fact, the only source of light came from the large semicircular table located at the centre of the room.

The light was odd, unearthly. It gurgled up the solid stone floor within the hollowed circle of the grand conference table and whirled about the inner perimeter like a heavy fog. Some crept halfway up the cherry wood, hugging the back/private panel of the enormous desk. It pulsed a deep rich blue in the small vicinity, the glow dancing outwards until it wandered too far from its source. The darkness beyond the blue bubble was so vast that he had never once been certain on how big the room actually was. It was impossible to make out the walls closing in from all four sides. There may had once been a time when he had walked into this place filled with light and laughter, merriment and earnestness— yet it was these such things where he could not quite recall anything at all. No matter how he thought on it, it always left him puzzled and confused. The anger did not always accompany these thoughts, but when it did, it was intense. The hot, unbidden anger that arose from helplessness, from a broken promise. It was as if nothing had changed over the years, and he was still that wide-eyed and innocent little boy. Here was ignorance in another form, and the vague memories that haunted him in their beckoning wake did not let him rest. So that in desperation, he looked to the only place he could turn to, feared it, became drawn to it. Yet the room was as mysterious as it was relentless to reveal its secrets. Concealment and darkness, no matter how many times he had been here, the atmosphere always felt uncomfortable, artificial and cold.

Once again, the chamber did not inspire as much awe as he had first felt, but it was breathtaking nonetheless. It was not majestic, unlike what he had observed just on the other side of the walls. It was, instead, unnatural and exotic, holding a strange quality that almost seemed alien.

The messenger, Tezuka noted, was no longer with him and the echoes of his footsteps became his only company. He felt like he was walking on thin air, towards the light at the end of a long tunnel. The strange glow tempted him closer, and he obeyed, stepping up to the opened end of the semicircular desk, eyes narrowing in concentration at what that pulsing blue light could only evoke.

The arrangement was designed so that he could barely make out the seated shadows in all of their secrecy, but they could always see him from the illumination of the floor.

"Tezuka-kun," it was a pleasant voice, "I hope you are doing well. We've been hearing good things from your team."

"Thank you, Sakaki-sensei." They had been their mentors and later, confidants at some point or another. Old habits were hard to break.

"It appears that your team has no troubles in tracing the enemy. I wonder what kind of words you say to them. Team dynamics is such a riveting subject." Lips twisted wiry and the voice dropped to a chilling tone. "But we are gathered here for a greater purpose, and as you may already know, no team is perfect in everything they do…"

"A source has indicated that the rebels are moving again. Apparently, they are very interested in a certain Jasper stone." He chuckled lowly at the other's puzzled expression. "We chose you to come here instead. We all remember how the last time Fuji carried out a mission turned out; we nearly lost the poor boy to the enemy—"

"With all due respects Sir," it was amazing how Tezuka managed to keep his voice even, "it was _you_ who explicitly ordered him to—"

"—but I suppose he has redeemed himself by providing us with a certain new piece of information." The words were mocking, and Tezuka thought he caught sight of scornful eyes.

"Your progress report on Echizen Ryoma's psychic condition has been reassessed. We believe he has enough training already and should be given some fieldwork." He pushed a folder out to him. "Here are the assignment details. Investigate and stop their advances. I'm sure you're more than capable of handling them."

Murmurs of agreement.

"But," Tezuka started. He stared hard at the folder in his hand.

"Tezuka-kun, Ryuzaki-sensei has handed me full responsibility for your team before her illness. I expect you to obey me as you do for her. Do you understand?"

"Then pardon my idle comment." He would had reacted to the stunned silence were he not so desperate. "There is no need for the Council to concentrate so much on Echizen Ryoma anymore. The team will handle his training. If it is infiltration you are worried about, I will send some members for this mission. We will provide backup assistance if you chose to find another team. Anything we will help to do in our power… but we cannot send the entire team out." He knew he sounded foolish; he knew he acted rashly. He was just a single voice against the might of the Central Council. But he had to get this through them; he had to make them realize the kind of power they were playing with. For despite all the preparations and tests they had planned and given, a certain critical period must first be fulfilled in order for psychic control to evolve fully—Echizen Ryoma was not ready yet…

"Don't be impudent, Tezuka. It should be obvious by now of what we wish to accomplish. The final documents to the original Hybrid Theory were destroyed well before it could even reach us. You should be familiar with the protocols by now—"

—and what had confirmed Tezuka's worst fears, his purpose becoming painfully clearer by the second…

"—because after all this waiting, for all the nonsense we have endured, we don't want to cling onto a fleeting hope. We need confirmation on it; we need it to be on an official report."

—a rift, a chasm. Just like what the other captains were slowly becoming. He would be a puppet, become disconnected from his team if he was not careful. He had to act fast. For their sake and safety, he had to be alert and cunning. He had to maintain a clear head, keep Echizen on a low profile and safe from prying minds—

_Safe from you…_

"So Tezuka-kun, I take that you finally understand the situation here. There is no time to waste. We have the key and we have the advantage. I certainly hope that you are not holding anything back from us. Are we clear?"

Tezuka nodded weakly. He needed to go to his office to think, to figure a way around this decision. He gave a short bow, the customary parting words sounding strange to his ears, and quickly left.

Sharp eyes followed him out. It was when the door finally clicked shut that other stony figures began to talk. "You shouldn't have mentioned the theory, Sakaki-sensei. Now he'll probably tell his team about it."

"Sending Tezuka-kun here was a very big risk. We would be better off with asking for their vice captain, Oishi Syuichirou**."**

"Don't forget," another voice interjected, "that he is a passive psychic. Screening certain aspects of our unconscious mental states is a difficult if not impossible task in itself—"

"And if Fuji Syusuke ever comes back here again, our purpose would be stripped clear even before we open our mouths to speak—"

"Everyone, please." Sakaki's calm voice floated across the room, and the chatter gradually died down. "It is unfortunate that we need to plan so delicately around the situation. The talents of these individuals do come at a price, after all. The mission will go as planned— I will make sure of it. We'll catch Tezuka-kun before he leaves his office and purge his memory again. This blue curse will slug his clairvoyance for at least another few hours and prevent his full power from interfering with the process."

He glanced at the expectant faces through the blue light. These were the people who supported him, stood by him, carried out his word. A sense of pride rose from his chest to overwhelm the anguish that had flashed through him a moment before. It was a feeling meant only for him, to be understood only by him. That much he knew.

"The guilt we bear may consume us and prevent us from fulfilling our hopes. Yet I ask you all to open your hearts one last time to let loose that vengeful spirit. Those past mistakes will be atoned for, let there be no doubts. So long as this deep revenge fuels us and guides our will, everything else falls irrelevant. We will master the Hybrid Theory in all of its complexity and launch it full force at the enemy. For Earth, for honor, there is nothing more important than the revival of a certain intent and ambition… as we finally take back that lost chrono power, brace yourselves for the approaching roar of our greatest and most pressing goal— the Timekeeper of Earth."

-----to be continued

Hm. Well. My stab at humour scares even me. I strongly detest this chapter, dammit! Many times I had thought: God, screw this! Writing humour is hard… dammit! (Not to mention that it totally threw off my style. Readers: "Style? What style?" Jellybean Hoarder: "_Alright_, I'll stop lying to myself.") But then, I knew that I was being such a bad girl, going on hiatus and all, that I just had to compensate for it—did it work? I keep breaking the record for long chapters, so I hope there are some happy readers out there. And anyway, after watching those episodes and reading pot manga about their 'fun' days (snicker), I also wanted to contribute a little something to the whole … torment(!) of it all. Don't get me wrong, I love the pot boys… really (sweatdrops). If this chapter was confusing and hard to follow, sorry again. I hope it was better than my last chapters. Always striving for improvement here! Please give me more constructive comments! But anyway, I really tried hard. I don't think I've ever killed so many brain cells. I seriously think I'm slipping. Writing style getting worse now. Give me some input, please. It's hard to judge esp. when I'm the writer. Dramatic last paragraph didn't come out the way I wanted it to, but I'm through with editing this shit….er, chapter. 

Ohohohoho! (please excuse the bouts of insanity that may pop up once in a while)

Well, I have another pairing I have developed a liking for: SasuNaru! (starts foaming at the mouth). That was one of the many reasons why it took so long to update, because I wanted a double posting. So… uh… while I try to keep my sanity in check, find time for myself and struggle to finish the next chapter, feel free to drop me a comment or two. I feel lonely whenever I talk like this. It makes it seem as if I'm really talking to poor ol' meself. Or am I the only one feeling this way?

So, because many of you have met my good friend Procrastination, I have come up with a tentative solution. No sorry, it doesn't make me write faster (although there are ways of achieving this, but I shouldn't give you guys any ideas). The new solution is this: I post a more detailed status of my fic(s) in my author info page so nobody will be feeling dismayed or anxious should I not update for a while. Mind you, this is just an option for those who want it. If I don't hear anyone wanting this, then I won't bother with it.

Yoshikochan has graciously agreed to host CounterSpin on her website! (throws out marshmallows and bon-bons!) Visit her site and once again, thanks a lot, Yoshikochan! (heart!)

…since I can no longer answer to peer reviews on ffnet and I don't have the time to do individual sendings, please turn to Yoshikochan's CounterSpin version on her site for all responses.

One last comment: I've 6th compilation album… **GET IT!**

Thanks:

_Yoshikochan_: thanks a lot for the comment. I really like to capture important moments with memorable lines. That's half the reason why it takes so long for me to write. I want to do a good job on this!

_Psychotic Azn_: well, the hiatus has been a year already, so…. Please don't kick me? It's so hard, already, school and midterms, projects and conferences! Try to understand 

_Cheeseburger of Doom_: I don't like angst at all, and wonder why some people out there do. I thought that I'll be pounded for adding fujiryo angst, but at least someone appreciates it! Thanks for the comment.

_Ann_: updating…and trying…

_Risen_: I try to keep readers on their toes…although the effect has probably gone away due to hiatus and ebbing interest for this fic. I completely agree with the angst part and how I don't like it either, but it's important plot stuff, so I must write it. Alas. And speaking of about FMA… ! gosh, I don't even want to start with the complexity of that anime/manga. Don't be sad with the insufficient number of fujiryo fic. As far as I can tell, there's been a lot of contributions! Anyway, thanks for your like (love?) for this fic!

_Hannah_: I tried to make the last chapter sad….and I succeeded! Thanks for the review!

_Celestral Moon_: weird? So long as you enjoy it, all is well.

_Kawaii Chibi Yami_: I try to keep angst down as much as possible. I rather prefer humor, as hard as it is for me to write it. But angst does build up plot nicely  And naughty… not dirty… ideas shall run rampant whether or not I can help it. (rubs hands gleefully)

_Angela_: ok. I think I owe you the biggest apology. But seriously, 7 reviews really got to me… and made me insanely happy. Tell me, do you really love this fic? No one can love a fic that much. That much love is not healthy! But fujiryos are awesome, I tell you! I was unable to prevent myself from going onto hiatus, but I hope that you still want to know how this story is going to turn out!

_Hagane_: I think I already did a whole lot of disappointing from hiatus break. Your comment was too flattering….and I'll try to write …even… more. Thanks for the comment!

_Kuro_: ok! (gets fired up) I'll write more!

_Kiwee_: was fujiryo in this chapter yummy enough? I tried hard…honest! Unfortunately, I cannot draw for beans, so, do use imagination to the fullest extent for the last scene….(pouts)

_KagomeGirl21_: I like draw out people's emotions in stories. I think it makes something more enjoyable to read. Thanks for your comment.

_Gia_: I'm very happy that you like this story. Hopefully you would want to read more despite the hiatus…?

_Ronin101_: thanks for putting your comment up. Comments really mean a lot to me. It's the only way I know that people are interested in this fic. Being a university student leaves me with very little time for anything else, so expect a few more delays!

_Ishka_: I tend to strive for a less conventional plot to challenge myself. I'm glad that this fic caught your attention!

_Black Hikari_: aw, thanks for your comment! The 'dream' is something that's going to be developed in the coming chapters, so stay tuned! The hiatus thing was unavoidable, unfortunately. Depending on the situation, the fluff may get fluffier!


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